"I hold on to worry, so tight. It's safe in here right next to my heart."

 "I never want to worry again. It's exhausting and draining. It's counterproductive. It's poisonous and toxic. And I can't do it anymore. Obviously, there will always be stressful things, and you have to react to stressful situations, but you don't have to turn those scenarios over and over again in your head to the point where you truly believe any possible outcome will be the worst thing to ever happen in the history of the world. Obviously I'm exaggerating a little, but just a little." --Jasmine from An Experiment in Poverty

Can we be honest for just a minute? No judging eyes, deal? Okay, here goes: I worry. A lot. I've written about it before. I worry about all sorts of things from the ridiculous (falling down a set of stairs) to the rational (finding a full time job). Sometimes worry is a good thing. It can motivate me to get up out of my green chair and stop watching Spooks to clean my house or go grocery shopping or apply for jobs. Worry can motivate me to take my car into the shop when it makes that weird noise when I push on the gas pedal. Worry means that I don't eat cheeseburgers, ice cream or drink regular milk. It means that I keep all my doors locked at night and leave a light on when I leave the house at night. 

See. A particular kind of worry can be a good thing. 

The kind of worry that I've had going on lately hasn't exactly been the good kind. It's been the keep yourself-up-at-night-chewing-off-your-fingernails-give-yourself-a-massive-headache kind of worry. Unfortunately, that's my worry of choice. It's something that I've done since I was a little kid. I guess you could say that I'm wound a little...er, tight, I suppose (if that's a surprise to you, you don't know me at all). I won't lie to you. As exciting as college graduation was (and it was), it has me wound all sorts of tight. I'm now going to vent right here, right now the things (ridiculous to rational) that I'm worried about:

-Finding a job that I actually enjoy that's right for me.

-Paying off my student loans.

-Finding a place to live when I move out of my grandma's house.

-That I'm not doing all of the things that I should to be a good person.

- That I'll never find anything useful to do with my degree.

-I'll never get married because I'm too scared to talk to new people.

-I'm not a good enough example to my siblings.

-I'll never be able to make things right with my brother, no matter how hard I try.

(Now imagine me dusting off my hands)

Alright. That's over with now. I'm taking a deep breath and from here on out, I'm going to do my best not to worry. Just like Jasmine says, it's counterproductive. So this is me letting go of some of that ridiculous worry, blog world. When there's nothing that I can do to change a situation, there's no point in worrying. I am, here and now, making the conscious decision to worry less and enjoy life more. 

Join me, won't you?

The Worry Balloon...

When I was in first grade, my teacher would blow up a balloon every day at the beginning of class and then she would have each of us channel our 'worries' in to it. 

After our first grade troubles had been cast out of our minds, the balloon was then popped, symbolizing the fact that all our worries had been popped and were no longer relevant.

 The logical part of my seven year old brain hated that freaking balloon. I knew that just because some stinking blown up piece of rubber was passed from grubby seven year hand old to germy seven year old hand, my worries wouldn't go away. 

The irrational side of me worried that when we popped the balloon all my worries would find their way back into my brain and all that silliness would all have been for naught. 

The older I get, the more I think about the worry balloon. This blog has sort of become my worry balloon to some extent. Can I just give you all the list of things that are keeping me up tonight?

-Finals. 

This semester has been so crazy that I haven't been able to focus on my classes like I normally do. The only thing that I'm honestly afraid of in life is failure.

-My grandma. 

She's not been feeling well but won't let me take her to the doctor. Stubborn lady.

-Money.

Remember how the colonists bought the island of Manhattan for some glass beads? Can we go back to that?

-My students and their inability to understand the meaning of the term 'deadline'.

Emphasis on the dead. They also struggle to comprehend the meanings of words such as due, preparation and study.

-Work.

I love my job but my boss is the ultimate perfectionist. I live in constant fear of messing up and her freaking out all over me.

-Bugs.

Yes. This is quite possibly the most irrational of all of my worries. I know I'm crazy. No need to warn me. But they always seem to find their way into my room during the winter. Yuck!!

Well there you have it. My own version of the worry balloon. Fear not, my dears. The worrying has not dampened my effervescent holiday spirit nor my desire to find delightful Christmas presents and my cards are going out this week. Start checking your mailboxes!!