Don’t Be Happy: Worry

I have a terrible confession to make: it looks like I may turn out to be good at something after all. And that something is … worrying.

Many notverygoods can go all week trying and failing to come up with a useful idea or an original thought, but when it comes to worrying, the imagination just soars. Why is it, I often wonder, that if you ask us to visualise something fairly simple – let’s say, the dimensions of a shelf you might want to put something on – we can barely work out what the thing is, let alone picture it; but picturing 6 varieties of apocalypse is a standard pre-breakfast warm-up to get the day off to a good start.

It was when I realised that I was managing to worry about a penniless old age and an early, painful death in the same moment (I’m perfectly healthy, by the way) that I began to wonder if this should be seen as some sort of talent. I know all too well that I’m not alone – could there be a way of creating some sort of international worrying contest? Take a scenario – like a nice sunny morning on a public holiday – and see who can find he most reasons to worry about it in the shortest time? Let’s put our talents to good use!

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