Let’s talk about catastrophe. As I sit here in my bathrobe, whiling away a morning off before a meeting, I’ve already had at least 2 moments of utter shocking horror.
One: I realized that I committed to going somewhere at a time when I already have to be somewhere else. That is simply too many places for any given interval. Needless to say, I panicked, despaired, considered the possible implications for my job and livelihood, and then shoved it away to deal with later. I’ll need to fix it when I get to work later, but that doesn’t stop it from popping up over and over again in the interim, like a ghost haunting my happiness. Thanks, I had been feeling good for a few minutes, I needed a fresh wash of adrenaline.
Two: I briefly considered working on my research project for my psych MA. At this point, it is my boogieman, the half-glimpsed horror seen just as you jolt awake in a cold sweat. It is my hemorrhoid.