You nudge me awake early in the morning, wanting me to feed you.
My anxiety is a first world problem, born of too much opportunity.
Paul has said that when he pictures me in this mind--his image of me--my avatar I guess you could say, is a little girl, feet planted, arm straight outstretched, holding a knife to fight a dragon--with her eyes squeezed closed.
It is not too inaccurate--because I try very hard to slay my dragons--but I'm seldom a happy or fearless slayer.
This week I woke with anxiety on Monday, because it was the day I had to tell my supervisor that I want to apply for a position in the department that has half the hours I currently work. This is a lot less money for our household, though I would have almost the same benefits. Using the Amazon money I won, Paul and I can last for five months this way--we hope! Then I might have to look for something else. But the idea is that I can have more time to write--and to be more quickly responsive to writing opportunities that come my way. It seems like the right choice to make--I mean, who spends so much money on school and then picks--and keeps for too long-- a "safe" job that can never pay back the loans, and makes it impossible to effectively pursue the career all the money was spent for? That's lame right? Like buying a really expensive ticket to the dance, but balking when it comes to getting the right dress.
So, I did it--arm outstretched, knife pointed...but my stomach was in knots all day.
The knots had sharpened to knives by Wednesday, the day of my pre-Lasik eye exam. It was just a touch up to my left eye, and I was hoping for the best. For months I'd been setting the money aside, and thinking how great it would be to not have to wear my sunglasses over my glasses , and be able to see in yoga class again. But at the same time, I hear my mother asking why I always do these things--can't I just be happy with my glasses? And my boss says, "What it there's an earthquake in the middle of the procedure?" (to which I said, "Believe me, I've thought of that."
And I wonder-- Am I asking for too much? I was really lucky last time, and had a decade of great vision, Now I want more. Am I greedy? I am asking for more than others have, for more than anyone deserves--and will I be punished for that? Is there only a finite amount of luck in the world, and I'm using mine up faster than I should be taking certain risks.
Of course not--who believes any of that? That's like believing in ghosts.
Or furry kitten-balls of anxiety nuzzling your hair right next to your brain...
PS. Lasik went fine. 20/20 out of my left eye. It's awesome!