Ohdeoh doe-dee-oh-doe
"Hey! Psst! Wake up!" I hear my sister as she pokes me, waking me from an exceptionally sound sleep. So much so that at first, I wasn't sure where I was.
Chico's on me in an instant now, since I've stirred in response to my sister's pokes. I roll over, expecting it to be important.
"Do you have any ideas for dinner?" My sister asks.
"Huh?"
"Did you have any ideas what to make?"
"Did you look in the fridge? What've we got," I'm thinking this is pretty simple stuff.
"Well, unless you wanto have frozen burritos for dinner, I'm not sure what do make."
"How 'bout those franks?" I ask, fending off Chico, who's busy licking my face.
"I don't know if they're any good," my sister answered warily.
"What's the date on them?"
"I don't even know if they have a date on them," she says.
"Did you look?"
"Not really," and with that, she left me be.
I tried to roll over and resume my nap but to no avail. I was awake. Shit. Such a waste of my time.
But you know what? There's bigger fish to fry. Like my driving.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" Jim asked.
He'd hit the nail on the head.
"Well don't be. It's supposed to be fun," he said, "Half your problem is learning to relax, you know."
I merely nodded. He's right. At first he thought maybe it was because I couldn't take any criticism. (I'd get shaken every time he let me know I'd screwed something up. But he'd told me so that I'd learn from it.)
We're supposed to go driving again this evening after he finishes taking care of the 'Boy Wonder', who wanted to have a cookout. ("If he's buying the meat, I'm not arguing.") And I've just now realized that my cell phone must still be up in the Summer Home. I can only hope he calls the house phone if he decides to call first before coming over. Or that he'll just come over. Otherwise were looking at a potential fuck-up in communication.
I worry too much, don't I?
Chico's on me in an instant now, since I've stirred in response to my sister's pokes. I roll over, expecting it to be important.
"Do you have any ideas for dinner?" My sister asks.
"Huh?"
"Did you have any ideas what to make?"
"Did you look in the fridge? What've we got," I'm thinking this is pretty simple stuff.
"Well, unless you wanto have frozen burritos for dinner, I'm not sure what do make."
"How 'bout those franks?" I ask, fending off Chico, who's busy licking my face.
"I don't know if they're any good," my sister answered warily.
"What's the date on them?"
"I don't even know if they have a date on them," she says.
"Did you look?"
"Not really," and with that, she left me be.
I tried to roll over and resume my nap but to no avail. I was awake. Shit. Such a waste of my time.
But you know what? There's bigger fish to fry. Like my driving.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" Jim asked.
He'd hit the nail on the head.
"Well don't be. It's supposed to be fun," he said, "Half your problem is learning to relax, you know."
I merely nodded. He's right. At first he thought maybe it was because I couldn't take any criticism. (I'd get shaken every time he let me know I'd screwed something up. But he'd told me so that I'd learn from it.)
We're supposed to go driving again this evening after he finishes taking care of the 'Boy Wonder', who wanted to have a cookout. ("If he's buying the meat, I'm not arguing.") And I've just now realized that my cell phone must still be up in the Summer Home. I can only hope he calls the house phone if he decides to call first before coming over. Or that he'll just come over. Otherwise were looking at a potential fuck-up in communication.
I worry too much, don't I?
posted by Sonny Shine at 5:57 PM
2 Comments:
Yes. Yes you do.
N
You're absolutely right. It's ridiculous, isn't it? I wonder if it's hereditary. My Gramma was a notorious worrier. Sometimes to the point of an anxiety attack.
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