Twitchy

I get stressed way too easily. My mum always used to say that my family was of a nervous disposition, which I always rubbished. And yet, as I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten twitchier and twitchier. I’m sure this is partly a byproduct of physical fitness, partly of poor organisation, but it’s there nonetheless. We’ve been trying to organise things for my mum’s birthday on Thursday and my daughter Jessica’s sixth birthday next week, and that got me a bit twitchy. Then this morning I got an email that plunged me into mild chaos. I’ve got a tick under my left eye as I type. The email was perfectly fine, it just asked where I was at with something. Now, I thought I’d replied last August to this query already (an email seems to have gone astray), and suddenly was going ‘oh shit, oh shit, oh shit’. I’ve now responded to the email and wouldn’t blame my correspondent for being both disappointed and angry with me. I hope it’ll work out, but it both added to the stress of the morning and left me thinking I get stressed way too easily. And way too easily to be this disorganised.

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1 Comment

  1. Welcome to Twitchiland, my home country and the land of my ancestors! (A lot of them, anyway.) I guess there must be some evolutionary value in fretting — since the blithely unconcerned got stomped by mammoths or eradicated by ravening hordes long ago — but it can be a real pain to live with. My major fret day is tomorrow (long-scheduled doctor’s appointment, need to get a ride there if not back, hot weather returning, and they’re going to be refinishing our decks in the 90-degree afternoon), but if it’s not one thing it’s another. So you have my sympathies!

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