working towards perfection (and failing)

worry-wort

I am the biggest (and bestest) worry-wort in the entire kingdom of Earthdom. I can, and will, worry about anything. I am also the biggest (and bestest) ‘head in sand’ burier.

As a rule, ‘worrier’ and ‘if I can’t see it, it will go away’ do not compliment each other.

*sigh*

I am currently worrying about the hoover (it broke), the shower (it broke, came back to life and broke again), my job (which won’t be my job from September, regardless of whether or not they accept my application for voluntary redundancy), Mog (he has a new friend and they were accidentally introduced a tad too early), our new car (the alarm went off on Saturday night and we don’t know why) and … hmmm, gosh. Everything really.

But we’re going to buy a new hoover, the man should be coming to look at the shower, I hate my job, Mog barely even flinched when he bumped into Dora, and the alarm hasn’t gone off again and was probably just being overly sensitive and picking up a lorry thundering past on the main road half a mile (as the crow flies) or so away.

I wind myself up and create little knots of tension all over my body. I live with a constant feeling of nausea in my belly. I’m an idiot. I need a massage, but I’ve never had a massage and so I’m not actually sure that do I need one. Of course, why have a massage when all I’m going to do is worry about it?

I often wonder how – and to a lesser extent, why – people can be so laid-back and easy. Other folk would laugh about the hoover. They wouldn’t think of the worst-case scenario with regards the (five month old) shower, they would just get on the phone and get someone round to sort it. Hate your job? Good for you for leaving! Mog is a cat, not a child; he doesn’t need to be molly-coddled. They would simply take the car back to the dealership and demand it gets fixed if the alarm is too senstive.

But they’re not me, and I’m not them. I don’t know how to fully relax and let the weight of the world simply wash over me. Relaxation is a completely alien concept; if I have nothing to worry about then worry about nothing I will. Or I’ll make something up to worry about.

Did the house just make a strange noise? Yikes! It must be falling down!

Ridiculous.

*slaps self*

1 Comment

  1. Zo

    I wouldn’t worry, but I wouldn’t laugh about the hoover or the shower. I’d get angry. I am Mrs Angry now and I need to take a chill pill. Or get a new job (am trying the latter even though it means dropping some £s)

    I do advocate massages, but facials even more so. Facials are slightly better as you get the massage with the benefit of lots of lovely cleansing in the process and it’s not so ‘ooh I have to take my top off and lay on my front for an hour’. You get a lovely complexion too out of it :-)

    How is blokey, by the way? I hope he’s doing OK.

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