Confessions of a Worrywart by Pauline Chandler

Some days, I’m completely exhausted well before nine o’clock in the morning, what with breakfast tv and the terrible news, and replying to messages on email, Facebook and Twitter.  
Then there’s the daily paper to read.

It’s all frightful. There’s no sense of calm any more. Have you noticed? Everyone’s worried to death and it can’t be good for us.  

And I've discovered something terrifying about bread.  
After two weeks, the white sliced bread, bought as an economy move, has not gone mouldy, which must mean it’s completely sterile. 

It's dead. When you eat white sliced bread, you’re putting dead bread in your mouth. I’m never going to buy white sliced bread again. Ever.  

Then there's the ladybirds. They're gathering in the corners of the window frames in the sitting room and kitchen, small crowds, cuddling into hibernation. They bother me and then again, they don’t bother me. They’re not noisy and I get a really good feeling from the thought that I’m helping wild life, but does it mean I’m a slattern who never cleans her windows and should I put my host of sleeping ladybirds outside, in the frosty  garden?

My friend urges me to support a woman writer who ‘lives her dream’, by devoting every minute of every day to her work in progress. Out come thoughts from Mrs Grumpy. 

'She doesn’t even wash her hair.  Ee-ew. Writers, artists, anyone, do not have the right to support, especially if they abandon personal hygiene. It’s lovely if you can wangle it, but don’t expect it. You’re not that special'. 
I reply that, of course, I'll help.  

Mrs Grumpy is followed by Mrs Irritated. 

'Why do people who ‘opt out’ of society, expect support? If you live in my country, and use its facilities and services, from libraries to public lavatories, you have to contribute. There’s no such thing as ‘There’s no such as thing as society’.  Listen up, we’re all in this together'.

Why does LIDL sell cat food labelled ‘for the sterilised and castrated’?  Indelicate.

Why did I buy chocolate-coated brazils, again?

Are there female zips? If the ‘keeper’ sits on one side rather than the other, is it like buttons on a shirt? Is it sword-related? Do boys mind wearing hoodies with female zips? If there are female zips.

Why is the man who is laying a new gas main in my road, smoking? Why is his mate standing watching him with his hands in his pockets?

If I eat a chocolate-coated brazil now, will it spoil my breakfast?

Why can’t I buy one kipper? There’s always two in a boil-in-the-bag, so there’s always one left over.  So sad.

Leftovers, like charity advertisements, weigh heavily on my conscience. They sit miserably, in the fridge, abandoned, like Victorian orphans, inexorably fading away without fuss. But, what is one to expect?  What can I do with two boiled potatoes? They're neither one thing nor the other.


One kipper and two potatoes. Hooray! Fish pie!



madwippitt said…
Glad I'm not the only worrier! :-)
JO said…
Oh dear, you're having a glass-half-empty day!
I worry about everything, mad! And, yes, Jo, I try to see my glass half full, but am I delusional?
Susan Price said…
Support those ladybirds, Pauline - ditch the writer.
Great post!
Bill Kirton said…
I'm not a worrier but a friend carries the art to astonishing extremes. Not only will she worry about, for example, a nibbled leaf on a new laurel hedge, she'll extrapolate from that a plague of bugs, her garden reduced to a wilderness, the house price crashing as a result and her husband and herself ending up in an insalubrious squat in the east end of (insert your own nightmarish location).
Thanks, Sue! I do love my ladybirds. I just wonder if they need to eat, only we're a bit low on aphids at the mo. Yes, I might ditch that writer, who makes me cross.
Bill, I'm not that bad - yet. I hope your friend's sanity survives all this angst! Poor love. Poor husband!

glitter noir said…
Delightful. And what an original theme for a post. Now you've got me worried that my next post won't be up to snuff.
What snuff, Reb? Do you mean to say there's a snuff to think about? OMG!
Susan Orlins said…
Hi Pauline. We must be soulmates! Checkout my blog:

And my book Confessions of a Worrywart: Husbands, Lovers, Mothers, and Others:
Pat Wootton said…
Ditch the writer - cheeky so and so! - AND the white bread - great decision - kep the chocolate brazils and the ladybugs :)
Oh,Susan,your blog posts are hilarious! Yes, I think we may be soul mates. From one worrywart to another - may all your worries be little ones!
Pat, I have some a chocolate brazil with your name on it!
Susan Orlins said…
haha thanks! And I wish you the same--may all your worries be little ones! I love that!

Susan Orlins said…
PS You totally ruined the turkey sandwich I was planning for lunch! Foraging the fridge for whole wheat bread--is that better?
I think whole wheat must be better, Susan, but you could always leave some out to see if it goes mouldy. If it does, it should be fine. I think. Ha ha!
Chris Longmuir said…
OMG, now I'm worried. I've always said that someone who spends too much time cleaning their house and doing domestic things is not a dedicated writer - or maybe I'm just a slob! However, on the other hand, I'm not looking for support, I'm quite happy with the dust!

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