My mind is a jumble lately with the upcoming roadtrip, the move, the bigger trip to England, and all the little tasks that go along with accomplishing all of that within the next 3 months. I've been having some trouble falling asleep because my brain refuses to cooperate. "Enough with the To-Do Lists!" I tell it and it says "But what if you can't find any places to say in Bath and what if you should not have sent that email and what if you forget to renew your drivers license in the midst of all that and what if you think you have enough money for all this but you really don't and what if you can't figure out how to change planes in O'Hare and what if your roommate is mad at you because you waited til now to tell her you didn't want to renew the lease and what if you can't find a place to store your stuff and what if you get lost on the way to North Carolina and what if you made a mistake getting that new phone yesterday even if it is pink and what if..." And I can't stop it. Gah.
Yet when I wake up in the morning or when I'm sitting at work I realize that I do have it all pretty much under control. That I have time. And, most of all, that I can ask for help if I need it.
Why does everything seem so overwhelming during the nightwatches? It reminds me of a poem I used to like when I was younger:What if
By Shel SilversteinLast night as I lay thinking here, Some Whatifs crawled inside my ear. And pranced and partied all night long. And sang their same old Whatif song: Whatif I'm dumb in school? Whatif they've closed the swimming pool? Whatif I get beat up? Whatif there's poison in my cup? Whatif I start to cry? Whatif I get sick and die? Whatif I flunk that test? Whatif green hair grows on my chest? Whatif nobody likes me? Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me? Whatif I don't grow tall? Whatif my head starts getting smaller? Whatif the fish won't bite? Whatif the wind tears up my kite? Whatif they start a war? Whatif my parents get divorced? Whatif the bus is late? Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight? Whatif I tear my pants? Whatif I never learn to dance? Everything seems swell, and then . . . The nighttime Whatifs strike again!
me, me, me;