When, in the middle of my growing up years, I went to typing school, they taught me to type two spaces after periods, colons and semi-colons. So that’s what I always did, until very recently, when I began writing 2 articles a week for Home Goes Strong, where my editor …
Unrelated announcement: See my latest article on Home Goes Strong, “Renovation Basics, What You Should Know Before You Remodel.” I was not looking for trouble. As you may know, my riskiest activity is bicycling and I do so with great caution, riding on sidewalks, wearing a helmet, using a Velcro …
When I travel, and even when I don’t, I’m both a schlepper and a non-schlepper. It’s in the worrywart’s nature to schlep. For example, I take seven pens in case six run out of ink. On the other hand, my back hurts when I carry things. To show you how serious …
This afternoon I knew my taxi would arrive in ten minutes to take me to the train for a few days in New York. I always worry about being late for the train, late for the taxi, late for whatever. And, I worry that my regular taxi driver won’t show up …
As a kid at the Jersey shore, on days of ocean calm, I would float over the occasional ripple with my dad, his hands folded behind his head and his tan, slender, feet parallel and pointing skyward. “Ahh, this is worth a million bucks,” he’d say and now I know …
Naturally, when I cook I worry the dish won’t come out right, especially because I don’t measure and I have never followed a recipe with precision. A great thing about Bonnie Pasta is that you can’t mess it up. And everyone adores it, including vegetarians. Read all about it and get …
Oh dear, I’m afraid I was terribly insensitive in my previous blog post, Worry Orgasm, which was about how worried I became when a train I was scheduled to take became delayed due to someone jumping in front of it at a previous stop. A friend, generally a supportive fan, …
Yesterday, my train back to DC from Philly was two hours late because someone decided to end his or her life outside of Trenton and under the wheels of an Acela on that blue-sky afternoon. Employees at 30th Street Station were amiably accommodating, responding with smiles to my persistent requests …
In case you don’t make it to the end, where I’ll refer to this again, see my latest post on NBC’s new Website Home Goes Strong, “My (91-year-old) Mom’s Do-It-Youself Decorating Tips.” On another note, this past weekend I visited my brother’s family in Philly, where I picked up some …
Picture a worrywart mom getting a call from her mid-twenties-aged daughter, who is all excited to tell about the New Zealand trip she and a friend are planning. We’re going “cave rafting,” the daughter says. The worried mother later looks up this cave rafting to discover it’s also called black …
I contract other people’s worries, as though they were chicken pox. That’s why I plug my ears and hum at the mere mention of, for example, sleeplessness. My friend Joe suffers from travel anxiety. Joe’s a guy who moves around Washington with the ease of a gifted politician, but who–weeks …
Ok, I’m trying to get this right with my blogging in 3 different places (Worrywart, Huffinton Post and Home Goes Strong). I tweet my new posts, I facebook my new posts, my dear daughters do the same, I link one post to the next and when I start a new …
Today, my first article appears on the NBC Website Home Goes Strong, where I’ll be posting new pieces 2 or 3 times a week. As you may know, I am capable of worrying about anything. The feng shui fracas began when a friend pointed out that my newly renovated space–where I could …
Today, as I was unlocking my bike in front of Trader Joe’s, I heard the sound of car meets guy on bike, and I looked up to see this guy sliding off the hood of the car that hit him. To my relief, he picked up his bike and hobbled …
Some worrywarts–me for example—dwell on the past, which often manifests as regret. I rarely saw my old friend Lou, other than at my annual New Year’s Day open house. Then he died and I thought, Why didn’t I talk to him more at my party? I immediately wanted to go …
Ever since beginning this blog, I’ve become a repository for friends’ and family members’ unnerving scenarios. Just last month my youngest daughter called from Minnesota to say she was reading a review in a Duluth newspaper of The Hypochondriac’s Handbook: Syndromes, Diseases, and Ailments that Probably Should Have Killed You By Now. …
I get anxious on weekends when everyone’s too busy to read my blog. So, I’m just writing to say hi and that I’ll be back early in the week when folks have returned to their offices where they have time to visit.
1. I occasionally allow a fan to whir overhead in my bedroom despite a lifelong fear of decapitation by ceiling fan. 2. I eat in restaurants, even though there’s the possibility that a waiter (annoyed by my requests for tastes of wine, glasses of ice, dish of lemons, sauce on the side) …
When my kids were in the single digits, agewise, I would tuck them into their unmade beds, then worry whether or not I was raising responsible citizens. So I decided to turn some dreaded chores into family fun! Read about it on Huffington Post and share with parents and grandparents …
The other day I was searching Google, thinking I’d get some ideas for Tip Day. The first Website I opened began, “Do you worry too much? If so, did you know it could be killing you?” Then I headed to Barnes & Noble where I discovered books can also scare …
Casey thinks “Fetch!” means watch Mommy throw a ball and yell “Fetch!” I ponder whether he’s bored on my new Huffington Post post.
Before going out the other night, I headed into the living room, whose door I keep closed so my beagle-y mutt Casey can’t get in and dig at the rug. As soon as I entered, I glimpsed a twitch of a bushy tail by the window. It was a squirrel …
While writing a recent article for Huffington Post, “Worrywart’s 8 Stress-Reducing Things to Do in Beijing,” I began thinking about how much planning a worrier does before traveling in order to help assure things go okay. Yet the most fun parts of a trip can result from allowing serendipity to take over, …
Friends often say to me something like, “I can’t believe you’re afraid of driving to New York, but you bicycle everywhere.” I don’t worry as much as you’d think a worrywart might about getting hit by a car while biking (uh-oh will this jinx me?). It helps that I wear …
My first tip today is get a mantra. Many of the things I worry about, I have little or no control over. For instance, what if the power goes off while I’m cooking Thanksgiving dinner? Then there’s my preoccupation with how I’ll keep my brain busy and distracted if I’m …
See my new Huffington Post post! (Do you realize how worried I am that you’ll think I am trying to get away with a two-fer here, which I’m afraid am, and that, therefore, you will never want to return to my blog? I hope you’ll overlook this transgression and return …
At dress rehearsal with its stomach-turning surprises, like having to dance onto stage, I asked myself What was I thinking when I agreed to this? At first it sounded like fun to be one of nine storytellers in a Valentine’s Day show, “Sucker for Love.” But I had not signed up …
From years of cruising Barnes and Nobles’ self-help aisles, I’ve picked up a pointer or two. Here’s today’s worrywart tip. Plan a worry break. A worry break is like a coffee break, except instead of drinking coffee, you worry. The idea is that rather than allowing, say, the woe that …
I’m trying to figure out how many future unborn generations I should worry about. Down to my great grandchildren seems reasonable. But if I care about them, shouldn’t I care about their children and grandchildren and so forth? There is no end. It’s like one of those photographs of someone …
This may sound cockeyed but–without a religious streak strong enough to be sure prayers get answered–I feel doomed to a lifetime of worry. Yet I spring to action each evening when the stars show up. I realize, of course, that if I tell you my nightly wish on a star, …