Wart


I am a worrier. There, I said it. Worrywartitis skipped generations with my mom and happened onto me. My grandmother was the queen of all worriers. For example when I was in high school and my grandmother was living with us:

"Bye Grandma, we're going to DC to see some music. Be back later." while placing a kiss on her soft cheek.
"Ohhhhhh......I hope you come back alive." she responds.

I can't help it I am in a constant state of always feeling like I have forgotten something, someone or some big holiday. If I can't put my finger on what's bothering me, my mind will search through it's archives, oh yeah.....Colin needs swim lessons, Anna's out of diapers, work needs to be graded....all of which are easily taken care of or no big deal.....and certainly not needing the alert label of Code Red my mind wants to slap on them. But my mind does not know the difference between the code yellow and blue.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

I've always loved that prayer but was secretly jealous of those who knew the difference. Because there are people who know the difference. And I am just wondering if they'd let me in on that wisdom so I can stop worrying about stupid stuff and concentrate on more important stuff like....
like....the caulking in my upstairs bathroom....that's code red right? no? drat.

Comments

Pam said…
Thanks for today's giggle. As a fellow "worry wart", I related to this on so many levels ! One day we'll get it right....

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