Tuesday, July 15, 2008

What, me worry?




I think everyone has a daily anxiety quota. Some can take this mortal coil with a grain of salt and a big smile. They really enjoy the ride and it doesn't matter if banks are failing, bees are dying, a tire's flat, or the toilet is overflowing. For others, no day is safe; no day is easy. Life is just a succession of potential calamities, and if the newest calamity isn't hanging its hat on something of international importance, then a personal problem will do. Leaky toilet! Termites!

And as with homosexuality, anxiety-level is not a lifestyle choice. Not sure if it's nature or nurture, most things are both. But given the choice, no one would choose sweaty palms, sleepless nights, worry.

I think anxiety stems from the attempt to stay one step ahead of the game AND caring about the outcome. You know you'll kick yourself (probably at 3 a.m. for many nights in succession) if you don't guess right. If you lose.

So, here are a couple of role models -- you choose one. (Even tho Phoebe was obviously too tard to moddel).

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