Diary of a Kinky Librarian

I seem extra anxious this week. I worry about every little thing. Sometimes that worrying is rooted in a valid worry - i.e., the Irishman is married just as my gut feeling told me and I don’t know for sure if he’s telling the truth about it being an open marriage or if he’s lying to me. Other worries, are less rooted in reality.

I got an email from the Latina. A long friendly one where she takes the time to address anything I mentioned in my last email from a few days ago. She addresses one issue and at first I read it as her being ok with the idea of some risk. I was overjoyed and ran into the kitchen to tell Davey. But then, I started overthinking her words and wondered if I read it right. I had Davey read the email and he insists I’m just being paranoid. I’ve re-read the email and half the time I think I’m being paranoid the other half of the time I think I interpreted her words wrong the first time. *sigh* She leaves in a few days on vacation, so I hope that I hear back from her before then so I can put my fears to rest and know what the deal is.

I’m such a worrier. I hate this. I used to scoff at my grandmother when she’d worry about any and everything, but meanwhile I’m not all that different than she is. I think I’m going through a particularly anxious time right now, and that at another point in time I’d be on a more even keel. I’m starting to wonder if my meds are exactly right for me or if they need further tweaking. Or better yet, if I just need to find a way to work through being anxious all the time.