worry

Take no thought for the morrow

I give up worry.

I refuse to waste another moment of my life worrying. I am in withdrawal. There are no rehab centres for people who abuse worry. I am on my own. The urge to re-offend is strong.

I have, since I can remember, always had something to worry about.

My first worry was burglars. In my confusion as a child, I thought that the word was bird-gular, and that they were giant birds that came in through windows and stole things. This belief was reinforced by stories of magpies fluttering through open windows and stealing shiny things for their nests.

Soon my worry of burglars was joined by a worry of house fires. When I used to go and stay with my grandparents, my grandmother would tell me to unpack my clothes and put them in a drawer, and I used to do this. But, then at night, I would pack my things back up in the suitcase, so that in the event of a fire, I could flee with all my stuff.

If I ever have to wait for something , I worry. When I go to a restaurant, I worry constantly. If we have made reservations then I worry that they will have somehow been erased. If we have no reservations, I worry that they will seat people who arrive after us before us, and that we will end up spending the entire evening waiting to eat. When we do manage to get seated, I cannot relax and chat, because I am too busy worrying: will they remember my food? Did the waitress get the order right? She seemed a little hesitant; she was not writing anything down: is it possible for someone to hold that amount of information in their head without making a mistake? Will she remember the extra rice? Will they overcharge us, because we never did get the extra rice. I worry that I will forget to check the bill for the presence of the rice that never materialised. I worry that we have ordered too much food and that we will end up having to throw half of it away. While all this worry is going on, other people might be trying to talk to me, but I cannot pay attention and enjoy the conversation, because I am too busy obsessing about the the waitresse's ability to do her job, about the chef's ability to cook the food, and about the cashier's ability to process the bill...

If someone is handing leaflets out, I get anxious: what if there are not enough to go round? What if I don’t get one? I will never know the important information, and obviously it is important, someone has gone to the trouble to write a leaflet and distribute it. It must be important. And, so the worry continues. I pick my way through the rock pool of life, jumping from worry to worry. But, now I have had enough. On Saturday, I decided to banish worry from my life.

I am having a hard time. There are some matters clamouring loudly for me to worry about them, such as my 7000 dollars lost in the banking ether, but no, I must not worry. The bank says that sometimes international transfers can take up to 6 working days. The fact that I have never had to wait more than one day before is irrelevant -- there is no cause for worry. I will wait, and then, when six working days have passed, I will ask for the money to be traced. I will not worry. I must have faith that the money will turn up. Thoughts like, "what if they did not get the account number correct?" keep creeping into my mind, and I have to slap them down. If that is the case, it will be discovered once the bank investigates. No amount of worry on my part will speed up the appearance of that money. But it is hard, not to worry about it as I sit here all alone, trying to break a habit of a lifetime.

My second test came yesterday. It was Pamela’s birthday. I decided to drive (even thou I don't even hev a drivin license) to Dataran Pahlawan, sp I can buy something for her. I set off earlier than usual, as I planed to park the car and go to the mall. I had only driven a few meters down the road, when I was alarmed by a rattling noise. Visions of the engine blowing up as I sped along the freeway immediately filled my mind.

I pulled into a side street. Got out of the car: all looked normal. I got back into the car and drove a little further down the street, but the rattle continued. Clearly my stern look had fixed nothing. I fumbled around beneath the dashboard, feeling for the leaver that releases the bonnet. I found it, looked at the engine, but nothing appeared to be dangling.

I called Hadi (my BIG bro): “The car’s broken. It rattles whenever I drive.”

“Look underneath the car, perhaps a stick has got caught.”

I got out of the car, and just where I bent down, I saw a two 50 cent coin. This I took as a good sign, a reward for not succumbing to worry, I put the coin in my pocket, and peered under the car, indeed there was a rather large twig caught underneath. I pulled it out, and I felt good that I had stopped the rattle, and thus avoided a worry-filled journey.

Today, apart from the lingering money worry, and try as I might, I cannot completely banish that insidious worm, I have been worry free. So I have decided to take a day off from going to school. Yeay! free from worry and free from school