It wasn’t until recently that I became the kind of person who worries. Fancy-free, things will work out as they’re supposed to… blah, blah, blah. It seems like all of a sudden, though, someone has infected me with the stress and worry virus—because it seems like that’s all I can do! (Of course, my mother will beg to differ on my assessment of my degree of “worry”—perhaps I’m just not admitting to myself what it actually is I’m experiencing.)
“OMG CHARLIE! What is they don’t allow Otto?” (He’s fine with a reasonable, refundable pet deposit)
“OMG CHARLIE! What if the woman we’re leasing from doesn’t send us the lease agreement and we turn down our ‘back up’ place and then we don’t have a place to LIVE!?” (She sent it, it’s fine.)
“OMG CHARLIE! The lease agreement says that we have to have a phone on the premises—what if they make us buy a land line??” (They didn’t. Cell phones are fine.)
“OMG CHARLIE! We need to buy a new couch! What if we move to
“OMG CHARLIE! We don’t have dressers or a table or a coffee table!?” (Working on those too.)
“OMG CHARLIE! WHAT IF I CAN’T FIND A JOB SOON HOW WILL WE PAY MY COBRA INSURANCE!?” (Fair enough, this one is still out there, but I’ve applied to three jobs that I think I’m well-qualified for.)
Thank goodness for a sweet and understanding person in my life who will listen to these worries calmly and not treat me like I’m going insane.
I’m starting to learn that moving to a new state with no job lined up yet can make a person feel a little insane.
“OMG! WHAT IF WE GO HIKING AND THERE’S A TICK OR A RATTLESNAKE??”