I have always found it works out to my advantage to be OVERLY worried about things in general, and then whatever the end result, it can't be quite as horrid as I imagined. Like when I was a teenager, the nights that I blew my curfew and didn't give it a second thought, were always the nights that my mom had locked me out of the house and then answered my (sissy-timid) knock on the door with mean slit-eyes and hostility. But the nights I stewed and fretted that I was sooooo in trouble were the nights she yawned, smiled and slurred, "Nite, hon."
So as a quick observer, the lesson was learned, "Worry the cuss out of life, and everybody's happy...and has stomach aches and ulcers...but that's what Tums are for, people." Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. Will and Testament and worried as junk.
Actually, my biggest concern is that my ipod battery will run out and the dentist will speak to me and I'll actually hear him...and the drill...which will yank me out of my zone~ which means I'll have to respond to put him at ease, because I want to make sure he likes me since it's all about him, right? And if he likes me, he won't think it's my fault that my teeth bust into pieces~probably some genetic flaw that can't possibly be my failing~and he'll make sure the procedure is painless and quick and almost delightful~and he'll tell me I'm a model patient and to "keep eatin' that ice, honey. It's obviously done wonders for your nubs, I mean teeth." And he'll smile and pat my hand and tell me he doesn't need to see me again for fifty seven years. Not even for cleanings. And he'll give me a bag of gumballs that are extra soft, and a special magical potion that tastes like licorice and coats your teeth and makes them impervious to cavity creeps~as well as gleaming white for eternity~ without ZINGING THE CRAP OUT OF YOUR TOOTH NERVES like stupid Crest Whitestrips. And now that I write it, it doesn't sound so bad after all. In fact, what have I been so worried about?
I'm only a few minutes late for curfew...my mom will totally understand. Sheesh. What's the big deal...? (sissy-timid knock on the locked door)
(ominous music in the background as she answers the door with mean slit eyes and hostility...)
To be continued...