Sunday, October 30, 2005

Karma, anyone?

As I sit here writing, I'm worrying about a number of things. I'm worried that I might forget to do Small Person's packed lunch, and that even if I manage to make it I'll leave it in the fridge tomorrow morning like I did last Monday. I'm worried that downstairs will leave their tv at the current volume (I feel as if I'm actively participating in this week's Songs of Praise) and that I won't be able to get to sleep tonight. I'm worried that Stephen Hawking witnessed our juvenile defiance on returning, drunk and triumphant, from another top night out watching a band (who, incidentally, love us so much that we have our own encore. The shame.....) and making the universal sign of the spaz outside his front door in protest at him keeping me awake yet again last week. I'm pretty sure he doesn't spend every night propped behind his front door with his eye to the spyhole but it worries me anyway. I'm worried that my new boss who starts tomorrow will, in addition to being eight years younger than me and in receipt of eleven grand a year more, also be an insufferable twat in the manner of my current boss. I'm worried that Small Person will one weekend starve to death as her father has once more singularly failed to feed her anything more than breakfast and sweets today. I'm worried that his planned trip to New Zealand next month is in fact an elaborate kidnapping plot and that I'll have to fight for Small Person's return via Interpol and the Daily Mail. I'm worried that we won't be able to get tickets for Robbie's tour when they go on sale next month. I'm worried that the Other Half's recent trip and his resulting close proximity to a number of men who have been at sea for a long time has awakened some latent neanderthal streak in him and that I will forever more be subjected to fart jokes and talk of vomiting at the dinner table.

All of this is symptomatic of my underworked, overstressed mind. I simply can't not worry. Evidence of this is vastly apparent, even to me. There's a local building supply firm whose name and logo is effectively the Camel cigarette branding. Every time I pass one of their trucks I worry about what would happen if someone from Camel or their owners were to see it - what if the Camel Building Supply people have just bought houses? Or had children? How will they pay the court costs? What will become of them? What if somebody relating to the tobacco company randomly Googles "Camel" and ends up here and finds out about the local building supply company and sues them and I am therefore directly responsible for homelessness and hungry children as, without this post on my blog, they would have remained otherwise undetected? If we go for a walk in the forest, or even through the wooded parts of the park, I'm worrying about what the procedure is on spotting a corpse in the undergrowth. Do you call the police and stay next to it, or go home and ring them? Should you take a photograph? Make some notes? What if the killer is still lurking? On Friday night, even when I knew the Other Half was on the way home, I still couldn't relax. I knew he was due home at around 4am so I woke on the dot of four and paced the floor for the next hour, visions of botched emergency landings and falling-asleep-at-the-wheel taxi drivers filling my mind. I finally texted him at 4.50am and was properly, actually relieved when I received a response.

A great deal of my worries are presumably the same things that other people think about. My fears for Small Person's future, for mine and the Other Half's life together, whether I can pay the rent this month. All of those things are normal, but I can't help but worry that I'm the only person leaving ludicrous notes around the house bearing warnings such as "School Starts Tomorrow!!", "Hospital Weds and Friday UFN!!", "Breathe in, then out again!!" (okay, I made the last one up). I am convinced that if I don't remind myself of the things I do most days as a matter of routine we will end up baffled and hungry, or that Small Person will be sitting quietly on the childminder's sofa wondering why I am an hour late even as I blithely do the grocery shopping, unaware that I am in the wrong place at the wrong time owing to the fact that I have left my phone in the office (I didn't leave myself a note, you see). The thing is, I don't know how to stop worrying. If I rationalise my fears I then worry that I have dismissed a potential catastrophe and that we will burn in our beds as a result of my not reminding myself to change the smoke alarm batteries. Maybe I am what my Nan would have called a "born worrier". Maybe I'm mental. Whatever it is, I wish it would stop (oh lord, am now worried that I am mental).

In other news, the Other Half's divorce came through while he was away. I am now officially stamping my foot and declaring that it's not fair, I want one. Soon.....please let it be soon.....

Carry on.


Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

me, i'm worried that you are even considering the daily mail as your newspaper of choice for tracking down your kidnapped child

i mean, what's wrong with the mirror??

but seriously, i'm a genetically-programmed worrier too, and you know what they say: a worry shared is a worry doubled

now i'm worrying for you on all those counts (as well as my own) and i'm also worrying about my ability to worry myself on behalf of other people (esp people i have never met)

does that help any?

no, didn't think so

(and now, doubtless, you are worrying that this seemingly sane blogger you have entered into correspondence with is totally nutty)

30 October, 2005 18:40  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

p.s. my father is also a born worrier so i'm going to mention some of your worries to him - heck, he already lies in bed at night wide awake worrying about what might befall his kids/grandkids/the dog next door...

30 October, 2005 18:41  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

see, UC, that's what worries me - all the other papers would turn me down and i'd be left with the mail doing a turgid overblown piece beginning with the words "she may not look conventional, and may indeed have been involved with the seedy world of the internet in the past, but this mother stands before you now and pleads "Give Me Back My Daughter"......

30 October, 2005 18:47  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

you don't look 'conventional'??

what dos this mean, pray tell? does this, frinstance, mean that you don't wear laura ashley print skirts and puffa jackets and arrive at SP's school in a 4X4?

in which case: golly gosh, i'm shocked of sarf london

p.s. thanksverymuch - this is really helping take my mind orf mr chick's trip btw

30 October, 2005 18:56  
Blogger Who is this Dave? chimed in with...

Notes are a Good Thing. Without notes, and a large diary open on my desk right in front of my nose, I'd be constantly forgetting things.

My biggest fear at the moment is forgetting to turn up take a funeral (they're not the same day and time each week, so I can't get into a routine).

30 October, 2005 18:59  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

a minister with a funeral "routine"? it's a short step to being the harold shipman of the religious world, isn't it?

UC - where has mr chick buggered off to? bring the chicklets and we'll watch st. elmo's fire and drink wine and eat snacklets until he gets back.

30 October, 2005 19:01  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...


ooh, ok - can we also watch 'pretty in pink' and 'breakfast club'??

30 October, 2005 20:22  
Blogger Smat chimed in with...

Mr Smat hasn't gone anywhere, but can I come along too? I LOVE all those films from my formative years! But I may need Pot Noodles (not eaten since 1988 - do they still make them?)

30 October, 2005 21:56  
Blogger Donna chimed in with...

You've got me feeling anxious now - and I don't even worry!!! about pretty much anything ... well, I am slightly concerned about the fact that I've just applied for a job that pays £8k less than I currently earn just so that I can be busy and enjoy what I'm doing - but how the hell will I pay the mortgage????

See!!!!! You've got me worrying now.

Congrats to OH ...

30 October, 2005 22:57  
Blogger mig bardsley chimed in with...

When i copied my list of daft stuff I might forget, I was too embarrassed to include the bit that says (every day) get up/get dressed/hair/teeth/dog out/feed animals/make cigs/have coffee/lock up/close windows.
I have been known to make notes reminding myself to go to the loo.

31 October, 2005 00:03  
Blogger patroclus chimed in with...

Ahh, catastrophic thinking, I believe they call it in the pop-psych "trade". The sort of thinking that makes you wake up in the night worrying about when you last cut your toenails, which inevitably provokes a downward-spiralling train of thought that leads you, hours later, to conclude that you are The Worst Person In The World.

I recommend Bach Rescue Remedy, preferably the spray version. It's a bit like spraying sherry concentrate into the back of your mouth, but it's worth it.

31 October, 2005 08:44  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

i love rescue remedy, me. it's like drinking at 9am, isn't it? i always get through gallons when i have to fly anywhere, but hadn't thought of using it for everyday life.....

31 October, 2005 09:06  
Anonymous Paul chimed in with...

I think you are definately Mental. And I am now doing the universal Spaz sign at the monitor.

Anyhoo, may I also add some wisdom.

"Worrying is like using a Rocking Chair. It get's you nowhere, but it give's you something to do"

I never worry about ANYTHING, it drives my wife mad.

31 October, 2005 10:13  
Blogger zanna chimed in with...

i am also deeply concerned about the robbie tickets. As for the rest of it I always find it's best to go to worst case senareo (how the f*** do you spell that?) too. Like saturday when I forgot to take my daughter to her best friends birthday party at 4pm because i was still hungover. I had no note you see and have worried about it since. Her mum is not speaking to me now but I never liked her any way.

31 October, 2005 11:13  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...


that reminds me - i texted my childminder the day before her son's birthday party to say small person couldn't go (even tho i'd previously said she could. well, it's childminder's own fault for taking holiday the week before half term and therefore requiring me to farm small person out on various people thus removing a window of oportunity for me to ferry her across town to a birthday party in a pub (in a pub for crying out loud - he's turning five!! why a pub? why not go the whole hog and hold it in a strip club or a betting shop?)) and she never replied. i am now worried that she is pissed off with me and will now not pick small person up from school and small person will be alone and cold and frightened and scarred for life and it'll all be my fault.

31 October, 2005 11:24  
Blogger Donna chimed in with...

Still, it could be worse, you could be the person in my office who forgot to write herself a note reminding herself to not put on THE FUCKING HIDEOUS OLD LADIES PERFUME today. Ooh, did I say that out loud?

31 October, 2005 11:31  
Blogger Kyahgirl chimed in with...

Gawd, stop worrying! You're giving me an anxiety attack over here!!

Keep writing notes, that's a good approach. Also, write down what worries you and write down all the contingency plans and backup strategies you have to handle everything that worries you. This helps me. Oh, and, I must confess, whiskey help too.

31 October, 2005 15:23  

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