Worry-Wart
Where did the day go? Not long ago it was 10:00 this morning, and suddenly it's after 10 at night.
We're having lovely weather lately - well, I think so, anyway, and you know how peculiar I am! It's in the 60s, and very windy out. The trees are changing color ever-more-rapidly, and its cloudy and occasionally drizzles. Something about this weather is just terrific, as far as I'm concerned. It reminds me of the prologue or aftermath of a big rainstorm on Cape Cod.
Meanwhile, one of my cats is batting a piece of dry cat food around my linoleum floor, before he catches and eats it. Whoop! There he goes, zipping off into the living room! Must be playtime.
I feel lately like I natter on and on when I'm talking to people, and I worry a lot that I'm talking peoples' arms off. I've been trying to cut down, but it seems like my brain just has trouble doing anything other than talking a lot, or staying largely silent. This is a fairly new concern - it seems to have popped up since I got out of grad school. For a long time I felt like I had all this information - much of it trivial - stuffed in my head, and I just had to let it out. Well, I've let an awful lot of it out, and don't feel the urge abating.
I have a suspicion that things aren't all that bad; when I ran into those old friends on Friday I apologized at the end for going on so long, and they said no problem.
I don't know why I get so paranoid about these things. In some ways I could care less what people think of me: I dress very blandly, I engage in offbeat and downright strange activities and dislike many "mainstream" activities, and am actually rather proud of being a little odd in that way. But I can worry endlessly about talking too much, or putting my foot in my mouth, leaving a bad impression at the end of a conversation, or inadvertently hurting someone's feelings, even when there's relatively little ground for such worries.
I'm just a worry-wart, I guess.
Oh, yeah; and obviously I do crave some sort of attention, as evidenced not just by my keeping this journal (and whining in it from time-to-time), but by my rather substantial home page. So go figure.
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