an accounting of my irrational fears.

fear that delivery men and women will show up while i am home but not ring the bell or knock on the door and instead leave a “sorry we missed you” note rather than leaving my package from amazon.

fear that someone is planning to use the laundry machines RIGHT NOW and if i don’t IMMEDIATELY RUN TO THE LAUNDRY ROOM TO BEAT THEM, i will have to wait 3 hours to do my laundry.

fear that moments after i leave the party something amazing will happen and/or everyone will start talking about me.

fear that i stayed way too long at the party because of this.

fear that i can’t possibly see all of the movies ever made, listen to all of the music ever recorded, read all of the books ever written, and/or eat in all of the restaurants in my city, let alone the world.

fear that my perception of myself as “whimsical” and “charming” and “eccentric” is inaccurate and that what i consider “whimsical” and “charming” and “eccentric” others consider “annoying” and “loudmouthed” and “assholish.”

fear that this list will get any longer.

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