Woes Of A Worrywart

I've decided I don't make a very good human being...and by this, I'm not talking about how I'm not a very nice human being...that's a different story...what I mean is that sometimes I think I would have made a better cat or bird...or rock, and this is mainly because I worry too much. The curse of the homosapien is that you know too much, and the more you know, the more you have to worry about.

Most people get excited about the future. I get scared. I think it has to do with my urge to control everything...I can control what's presently in my life because I know it's there already, but it's the uncertain variables in the future that drive me batty. How am I supposed to prepare (and I do love to prepare) for what I don't know is coming? I'm not, right?

I know I should be more optimistic about the future, and sometimes I am...I do have dreams I look forward to, but when the boat starts to rock a little, I want to grab a life vest (or three just to be safe) and paddle like hell back to a familiar shore. What I hate the most is when I'm the one causing all the waves. When I make decisions, I am responsible for their consequences. Of course, I know there are two sides and that there is such a thing as a good decision...and things have a way of just working out most of the time, but even with this knowledge, I can't stop fretting.

This is one of those posts I'll probably regret ever writing when I'm 85 years old, but right now all I can seem to focus on is the wide open, terrifying space between now and then.