MY INNER CAVEWOMAN

Unlike me, my friend Eleanor never worries about the dark or anything else;  she’s more evolved than I am.  All my fears and worries I blame on my inner cavewoman, who is constantly on the lookout for danger.

Fear of darkness (myctophobia) made sense 200,000 years before Thomas Edison came on the scene.  But that line of reasoning fails when I appeal to my Ice Age alter ego.  If only I could to go to sleep at nightfall, I’d experience less darkness during my waking hours.  But Cavewoman has to have her way, staying awake with her vigilant eye at times till the moon begins to fade.

I also acquired a touch of the ADD from my hunter and gatherer forebears, which was helpful for detecting predators back in the day.  But now, it rustles up a lot of trouble, like inability to finish a sentence without veering off on a tangent. When Eleanor and I have coffee she is always saying “And so . . . And so . . . And so . . . ”  Everyone seems to want me to get to the point.

My risk of going public with my fear of the dark is that if terrorists ever capture me and get hold of this information, they could use it to their advantage.

What fears can you trace back to your inner caveperson?

Unrelated announcement: Take my Organizing Challenge, see my new post on Home Goes Strong, 17 Tips for Getting Organized.

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