What me worry??

Sometimes I have been accused of being a worrier or worrying too much.  I’m not convinced this is the case, but who ever gets through the day without at least one healthy rationalization (as the saying goes)?  When things come up, I tend to think about all the alternatives.  Maybe I’m a pessimist because I do think about the problems that can come up.  But, then inevitably what happens when I try to relax and let things go and NOT “worry” about them is that other contingencies and issues come up and I feel bad for not having prepared for that. 

So, I try to see potential curveballs in advance so I can avoid them.  I realize this is a neurotic character flaw, but what can I do?  I guess I just don’t really want to fly by the seat of my pants because frankly, that hasn’t served me very well so far.  I try not to overanalyze EVERYTHING, but it’s a hard habit to break.

What’s the answer?  When a change in plans arises, how do I turn off the switch that makes me worry about all of the little supporting details from the change?  This switch got thrown on high power during wedding planning, because it seemed that every minor change seemed to necessitate 15 other changes that just made things more complicated for me than they already were. 

Here’s an example.  Scott and I have been talking about putting a calendar on the refrigerator so that when I’m scheduling our lives away, he has a visual reference.  We found one of those dry-erase calendars during our midnight trip to Wally World on Saturday.  I wasn’t going to get it, preferring a regular calendar.  But, he started talking me into it.  Then he started trying to convince me to get *2* calendars so I could have 60 days planned in advance.  He was having a grand time mocking me for scheduling.  At one point put 5 of these things in the cart so I could be well-planned out.  But I had to agonize over all the contingencies.  30 days isn’t a lot, I’m usually planned about 45 days out.  What about doctor’s appointments well in the future?  What about the magnets on the fridge?  Where do they go?  All these things now have to be ironed out.  It’s cause for pause, as I dorkily will say.  I’m scratching my head over all of the things to be considered, while he is laughing hysterically at my quandary.  (Frankly, I was laughing as much as he was, if not more.)  But seriously, I was prepared to walk away from the thing – why did its purchase suddenly cause added dilemma?

It’s a mystery.

And I’m sending this from work and I keep getting distracted by, well, work.  So, gotta go!