Personal Blogs

I am a few hours into a massive anxiety attack.  I sometimes wonder whether if I didn't have these continual periods of adrenalin-fuelled heart-pounding stress-outs, I might be a little fatter.  I must burn so much energy - if nothing else from pacing round in circles!  Our house is quite small too, so it's easy to get a little dizzy.  That can be nice of course, but not on a hangover, and for those situations I opt for the stairs.  Anyway, Al lost his keys last night.  I don't know how anyone copes with things like this.  Al tells me that people don't lie in wait for people to drop their keys, follow them home, note their address, wait for them to go out again, and then burgle them.  He tells me this, but all I'm thinking is where in this little house can I make all my things disappear into invisible hiding places.  And the truth is that I can't, hence the stress.   I remain convinced that someone is waiting at the end of the street; waiting for me to go out.  So I'm not going out.  In a perfect world this would be a circumstance conducive to study, but the world is not a perfect one, and I am singly focused on the lost keys.  Incapable of thinking of anything else.  There must be something I can do to make this a more efficient experience?  Attaching a duster to my feet maybe and polishing the floorboards.  Ha, that would be a first!  I've tried to distract myself.  I have washed a muddy lettuce leaf by leaf.  I've had a go on the punch bag.  I've done some skipping counting - quite a lot of that actually! This is the second stressful thing to happen in two days.  A few days ago, Al went off to the recycling centre, and I'd put an old pair of shoes in a carrier bag and asked him to take them to the shoe bin.  Yesterday I noticed that the bag was still there.  That horrible sinking feeling hit me, as I asked what exactly he took to the recycling bin.  The sod only threw out my new flip-flops.  Still, that's one less thing for the burglars I guess!