It’s normal for people to worry about things. Some people worry about paying their bills, other people worry about sick relatives or friends – there are a lot of things to worry about in life.
And I do. I worry about everything, except I worry at a super human rate.
Oh sure, I try to control it. One time I resisted the urge to unplug the toaster after I was done using it and the thought of it tortured me for the rest of the day.
In addition to worrying about my house burning down all the time, I also worry about people, particularly my husband. I blame this mainly on the fact that he always seems to act very nonchalant about his safety and once I was actually on the phone with him when he was held up at gunpoint. The robber stole his phone too so I was cut off at the climax of the situation and he didn’t have my number memorized, so it was several horrible hours until I found out that he was okay. After this, I realized that worrying about his safety was going to have to be my responsibility since he seemed unfazed by it.
Unfortunately, society frowns upon locking your husband in a fireproof basement room, so I just have to settle for making him memorize my phone number. Well, that and Xanax.