What's Weaver worrying about?

Sometimes I worry so much, I begin to worry I'm worrying too much.

I am a worrywart.

It's not something I'm particularly proud of, although I suspect it has gotten me out of some major scrapes and, in some cases, even made me happier because, as we all know, virtually the only way to guarantee something terrible doesn't happen is to worry about it beforehand.

This way, it's harder to catch me off guard or blindside me with an unforeseen circumstance.

And often, worrying can make a situation better because at least it's not as bad as I originally thought it was.

So, what do I worry about? The usual things, I suppose, like the general well-being of my family and friends, work worries like was my story accurate — I detest typographical errors to the point of becoming physically ill when one is my fault — and worries about the future: Will I be successful? Will I be happy? Will supermodels ever start throwing themselves at me?

There's nothing productive to these worries, I am well aware, and I have friends and family members who often remind me of such things: "Do your best, don't get in a hurry and don't worry about the things you cannot control."

I tell you, there are days I sit back and give thanks I'm not the one in charge of the universe. The only thing I can do is my part.

Then there are the other worries. The even less productive worries, the worries over downright silly things.

Like when I'm driving along and I see a car with a dog sticking its head out the window.

It's ridiculous, I know, but I always think, what happens if another car is coming along from the opposite direction, and it has a dog sticking its head out the window, and the two dogs make contact?

I worry.

Or, is the pain in my side my appendix or just a side cramp, because I never really do remember which side my appendix is on, so should I be really concerned or just stretch a little bit?

I worry.

Or, did I remember to make my student loan payment, when I know I did.

Did I remember to lock my door, when I know I did.

Am I worrying so much, I'm going to get an ulcer?

I worry.

These are the times when I know I have to get out of my own head and go do something productive, or escape into something which is not productive at all.

Show up, do my best and go home, is my motto.

Sometimes it's easier than others, but I think I'm getting better over all.

At least, I hope I am.

Gee, now I'm worried again.