I went for a walk to the beach with my friend Melissa recently and we had a blast discussing our litany of irrational fears. To be fair, I think all fears are basically rational, as long as they could potentially happen, but some are more rational than others (it’s an Animal Farm kind of thing).
There are obviously some things that are worth worrying about, like being almost 40, single, childless, and at the same time revolted at the thought of being in a relationship ever again. Also, not being able to pay my rent. You can’t tell me that’s not worth worrying about.
But some of the things that keep me up at night are pretty dumb, not to mention incredibly self-absorbed, like:
- Trying to remember the last time I got my teeth cleaned and panicking about whether my gums are receding (they are) and whether it’s going to eventually cause all my teeth to turn black and fall out and whether I will be able to stomach eating everything pureed for the rest of my life.
- That I will die without ever having learned a foreign language fluently, and that I no longer possess the cerebral ability to learn a foreign language at all, because of all the pot I smoked in college.
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- That I have a tapeworm.
- That I’ll slowly go blind until I am trapped in my own body, unable to write, read, or cope, left to wile away my days in isolated misery.
- That anyone cool will find out that I actually watch that dumb show Glee and have even seen some of the episodes twice. Thanks a lot, Hulu, for stealing my soul.
- Wondering how I can make money off of hating the yoga scene in the Bay Area and whether or not I will eventually be assassinated.
- Wondering whether my neighbors think I’m a nutjob looneybag because I’m forever dragging dead animals out onto the porch with a hysterical look on my face and then apologizing out loud to said dead animals and begging them not to debit my karma since it’s really not my fault my cats are born hunters with a taste for blood.
In regard to the latter, I have come up with a small solution to at least some of the carnage. I found a place in San Rafael that takes in injured wild animals. It’s called Wildcare. The people there are amazing and they will rehabilitate, say, a baby quail that’s been bitten in the neck by my cat, Budapest, and then release it back into the wild. If you ever come across an animal in need, please call them. This world is a terrible enough place without letting an animal die for no reason.
