When I was a kid my mom always said, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” That’s a fabulous arrangement of words, but I sweat the small stuff. A lot. Everything is always a bigger deal to me than it actually is or should be. For instance, if I miss my bus or trolley or my bike gets a flat tire (happens way too often) I think it’s some cosmic sign that I shouldn’t be there at that time. Like, for some reason my bad timing is perfect timing and there’s a reason behind me missing my bus or getting that flat tire.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about something to a point that it’s probably unhealthy. It’s something I can do nothing about and can never change, but that doesn’t stop me from daydreaming, wandering “what if…” I’m sweating the small stuff and it’s consuming my life, my friends’ lives, and probably even my cat’s. My life is completely overcome by fantasy and I spend so much time thinking about it, spilling my guts. For instance, I’m writing this post about it, on my futon with a towel wrapped around my head, because I just got out of the shower and should be getting ready for a meeting at 11 and an interview at 1:30. I’m wasting life sweating the small stuff, while the good things are probably passing right by me.