worrywartPosted: January 10, 2012
i worry. i worry about saving enough money for retirement. i worry about complicated shoot days going smoothly. i worry about leftovers slowly decaying in my refrigerator. i worry, it’s what i do.
i find all my worrying ironic because i grew up seeing and hearing a-ko worry about *everything* -somebody coming home late. somebody who has not yet eaten. somebody’s petty quarrel with somebody else- and i would repeatedly, exasperatedly, tell her to stop. just please stop worrying about everythingeverytinylittlething.
i remember she would get so worked up worrying about somebody else’s problems and i would get so frustrated because i could not understand why she would do that. why she would spend all that energy on something that wasn’t even hers to begin with.
on herself she is the most flexible. her time, her meals, her feelings. these are things she doesn’t put as much weight on as she would others’ — another thing i would not -and still could not- understand.
somehow somewhere, i seem to have picked up the habit as well. not worrying about other people’s problems, but worrying, still.
i worry about not being able to go on all the trips i want to go on, to not see the parts of the world i want to see. i worry about not being able to take care of a-ko, not in the way that she deserves to be taken cared of. i worry about not being good enough -at friendships, at work, at life.
i worry about not having the time to squeeze in the weekly laundry. i worry about not remembering to buy a new tube of toothpaste before the old one gets all squeezed out. i worry about suddenly losing alvin, because i know it can happen.
i worry, it’s what i do.