all these ducks

ducks

I’ve just pulled up to the pond and I’m already worried that I can’t get these ducks to swim in a row.

I couldn’t sleep last night for worry.

Worry….worry….worry.

And when you get down to it, what’s to worry?

I made an offer on some property last night…7 acres with two streams and a pond, old house (that’s more of a stumbling block than a benefit, probably)…a barn…some good buildable flat places….and the offer was accepted.

I was afraid to make the offer.

I’d never dealt with such a big purchase before…so I was nervous.

I’ve bought bunches of guitars in pawn shops…so “What’s the best you could do for cash?” falls easily off my lips…but I don’t know how to say, “Would you consider X amount, and then expect to be paid after voluminous legal wrangling and bank manipulation?”

Settling on a price was the easy part.

All the stuff that’s floating up in my brain…the things that I don’t know how to do…all the things that “might happen”…that’s what keeps me up at night.

And then I start wondering, “What have I done?!!”

Maybe I should have left well enough alone? Our roof doesn’t leak.

What was I thinking?

What if there’s a giant sinkhole on the property?!

What if it’s all a big MONEYPIT?!!

What if there’s nothing to worry about?

What’s the absolute worst that could happen? The bank won’t give me the money? That’s a bad thing?! I won’t be in debt…I kind of like that part of the failure….

One thing that I can comfort myself with is the thought that I really can’t physically support this kind of worry forever. At some point I know that I’ll drop into an exhausted bundle of previously nervous energy…and I’ll sleep it off.  I’ll sleep it off….

BUT FOR NOW THESE DARN DUCKS ARE JUST MILLING ABOUT ON THIS NEW POND AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH I YELL OR PUSH AT THEM WITH THAT LONG STICK THAT I FOUND ON THE BANK….I CAN’T GET THEM TO SWIM IN A ROW…..

I have no control over these “metaphors for worry”.

Best case scenario, we get the place….people are falling over themselves to just GIVE US THE MONEY ( I should go all Cuba Gooding Jr in the bank office and start yelling his tagline from Jerry McGuire…)…we find buried treasure down by the pond and pay off the loan early so that I don’t have to work at the Post Office the rest of my breathing days….lots of stuff could happen.

Lots of stuff could happen…lots of stuff….like….OH, NO!!!! WHAT IF THEY DECIDE TO SHUT THE POST OFFICE DOWN? WHAT IF ROBOTS (OR MONKEYS!!) START DOING WHAT I DO AND THEY TAKE MY JOB AWAY?!!! WHAT IF I GET IN A FIGHT WITH A ROBOT TRYING TO SAVE MY JOB SO I CAN PAY THE BANK FOR THIS PROPERTY WE’RE GOING TO BUY?!! WHAT IF ONE OF THE MONKEYS HAS RABIES OR SOMETHING AND THEY BITE ME WHEN I TRY AND GET MY JOB BACK?!!!

You see why I can’t sleep?

There’s a lot of things to worry about….

Michael Hurley “I’m Worried, I’m Worried”

About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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