I worry about worrying
I worry about worrying. I worry when I am worrying, and I worry when I am not worrying. Before you reach for the phone to counsel me - or gently suggest that I see a counsellor - let me say this: this is exactly why I ramble. Sometimes I need to place my confusing thoughts somewhere outside my head, preferably before they start holding a committee meeting inside it. Those of you who are non-worriers, please feel free to stop reading and move on to some more meaningful activity. Do not waste your calm and well-organised minds on this blog. Let me try to explain. I grew up like many middle-class children, without too many worries. My parents took care of my needs. I knew my wants - and certainly my greeds - could not always be met, because we did not have the resources for everything. But life was simpler then, and we learned to settle for what was given. So, in those early years, worry did not occupy much space. It had not yet been given a room in my head. Alongside this, I was tau...