Sunday night I put myself in a panic. I remembered something I had to do at work on Monday (another story both too unimportant and convoluted to explain here) and put myself though all the different scenarios that could transpire the next day. I made plans, revised plans, and adjusted plans while factoring in the phase of the moon, my diet, traffic patterns, and the day's pollen count. It's really all I could do to resolve the situation on a Sunday night.
Or was it? After my conscious worrying, which kept me busy throughout the evening, my subconscious took over. Any scenario I couldn't imagine while awake played out in my dreams--including one that ended in a massive fight between my boyfriend and me. I woke up Monday morning fully prepared for whatever would happen. It might have been nice to live out my weekend in blissful unawareness, but I did all I could to avoid surprises. Except one.
When I got to work, I found out that my boss had already taken care of the situation. Surprise! A different list of challenges greeted me. I welcomed those regular Monday duties and scrapped all my anxious plans. My worrying saved the day!
That's right: it saved my day. Some might say I worried for nothing, but I say my worrying itself helped me out by fending off bad vibes and catastrophes. I don't know how many accidents I've prevented my boyfriend from getting in just by holding my breath while in the car with him. We all know it's the collective worries of the worriers that keep planes in the skies. Sporting events, talent competitions, and even grocery runs: when my mind frets, my teams win, things turn out okay, and my favorite brand of cheese stays in stock. Right?
Right?
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