Because I have so little control over the big things: my kids' health and their safety: if my fellow drivers on the road will drive wisely; how many chocolates I will grab in a day; etc.: I exercise alarming amounts of control over the small things--things so small that they wouldn't even register if I possessed a slightly saner mind.
For instance, every morning when I make the kids their cheesy eggs for a breakfast boost of protein and fat, I pick the biggest eggs I can find in the box. This is a huge admission of kooky here: I pick the biggest eggs in the box. I don't eat eggs, so it's not like the kids are saved from having to eat the smaller eggs, or that I ever buy a new box because I judge the remaining eggs to be too small. The smallest eggs in the box will be eaten, inevitably, by the very same kids--just on day six, when they are the only remaining eggs. That's bonkers.
From tomorrow I'm going to pick any two eggs.
Freedom.
In related news, we've lived here for three years now, and it appears that I haven't been to the doctor in all that time. (Naturally, I've been there multiple times as chauffeuse and escort.) I tried to make an appointment with our family doc who has taken care of Big A on and off back from when he was a kid and now gives Li'l and Baby A their shots and referrals, to find out that I wasn't even in the system. I've made a Friday appointment to ask about anxiety, neck pain, and lady part exams.
_
For instance, every morning when I make the kids their cheesy eggs for a breakfast boost of protein and fat, I pick the biggest eggs I can find in the box. This is a huge admission of kooky here: I pick the biggest eggs in the box. I don't eat eggs, so it's not like the kids are saved from having to eat the smaller eggs, or that I ever buy a new box because I judge the remaining eggs to be too small. The smallest eggs in the box will be eaten, inevitably, by the very same kids--just on day six, when they are the only remaining eggs. That's bonkers.
From tomorrow I'm going to pick any two eggs.
Freedom.
In related news, we've lived here for three years now, and it appears that I haven't been to the doctor in all that time. (Naturally, I've been there multiple times as chauffeuse and escort.) I tried to make an appointment with our family doc who has taken care of Big A on and off back from when he was a kid and now gives Li'l and Baby A their shots and referrals, to find out that I wasn't even in the system. I've made a Friday appointment to ask about anxiety, neck pain, and lady part exams.
_
2 comments:
I always know when I'm anxious about big things, because I get OCD about little things: I'll check the stove three times, or the lights, or the locks, or - you name it. I think it's a marvelous way our brains help us cope with stress -- but it does drive my husband a little crazy!
It's driving me crazy! And I know it's OC. I'm hoping it's not "D" too!
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