A worrywart can benefit from a connection to God. If I believed prayers were answered, I wouldn’t need to worry anymore. Even though I’m an agnostic, I consider my relationship with God a pretty good one. Like those halfway-decent, parallel-play marriages between two independent sorts, God and I go into …
I can’t stop thinking about President Obama’s shared chest bump last year with a Naval Academy graduate. That was when I added chest bump to my list of handshake alternatives. In fact, I’ve been on the lookout for germ-free ways to greet people ever since the outbreak of Legionnaire’s Disease …
Recently, while visiting my daughter at college, I awoke in the night with the worst pain I’ve had since giving birth. In a way this suffering was more severe than childbirth, because the cannonball that was grinding inside my belly never let up the way contractions do. I thought I …
I wrote “worry” on my to-do list to remind myself to buy the book with that title. When my oldest daughter caught sight of my list, she thought that my chores for the day were to call the dentist, roast a chicken and worry. She knows me well. What …
I worry about appearing frivolous or insensitive to my blog readers, especially those with real problems. A friend, whose daughter has cystic fibrosis, once told me, “When they find a cure for CF, I’ll worry about world peace.” Another friend calls the things I worry about “white girl worries.” Seven …
Sometimes I play a game in which I name an object and then try to associate a worry with it, just to see if I can stump myself. “Venetian blinds,” I say. “Peeping Tom!” I answer without having inhaled. “Tomatoes,” I try. “Salmonella poisoning!” Another way to play is to …