I worry about everything. I don’t want to, but I do. My mom’s the same way and her mom was the same way. I don’t know about my mom’s mom’s mom, but I can’t worry about that. I’ve too much else to worry about. The 20 worries I’ve listed here? They’re just today’s and they’re just the ones I can recall. Yes, I’m starting to forget things, and that makes me worry.
1. I worry about finding the iguana my husband lost in the house before we were married.
2. I worry about road kill flying up and into my car window which is down because I’m sneaking a cigarette.
3. I worry about getting lung cancer.
4. I worry about being stung by a bee and discovering I’ve been giving false information to my health care providers for fifty-three years.
5. I worry about my kids growing up and moving on and forgetting me but not my credit card number.
6. I worry about my husband leaving me for someone who can do math. And read a map. And find that damn iguana.
7. I worry about running out of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and shorts that fit.
8. I worry about my kids getting hurt on the soccer or rugby field and that they’ll be pissed I didn’t call it a pitch.
9. I worry about my parents getting older and leaving me. Without giving me their credit card numbers.
10. I worry about running out of wine. And not getting a decent room in rehab.
11. I worry that the vegetable garden I planted isn’t being overrun by rabbits.
12. I worry about my cell phone dying while I’m driving and taking my GPS, and any hope of getting home before the next full moon, with it.
13. I worry about forgetting I have a cell phone charger in my car.
14. I worry I’ll be sleeping, have a hot flash, and drown my husband.
15. I worry my sons will be killed in church by a deranged lunatic, and then thank God when I remember that my kids have no faith in anybody but themselves.
16. I worry I’m going to hell for having raised such confident kids.
17. I worry I’ll never “be the change I wish to see in the world” because I just don’t have the energy.
18. I worry that I’ll be on my way out when my breasts finally come in.
19. I worry that I’m so worried about what to do with my life that I’m missing my life.
20. I worry that I’m forgetting to worry about things I need to worry about. And while I should probably be happy about that, I’m not. And that worries me.
