Everyone who knows me knows I’m super go-with-the-flow. Except when I’m not, which is all the time.
One night, on a family vacation, I valiantly stepped up as the designated driver. After the safe and successful trip, my mother said, “Lindsay was always a serious child.” I might have denied it ten years ago, but it’s true. I stayed up too late reading, rather than talking on the phone. At a party, I stood listening to the adults talk. I considered the consequences of moving a worm from one side of the sidewalk to the other, lest he be separated from the rest of his worm friends. All of that- bundled up in little me.
This means that I’m anxious. A lot. I worry about what I’m going to order at a new restaurant. I worry about how that last thing I said on the phone sounded. I worry about whether the crowd I’m in is going to stampede and kill me.
I also cause some worry. I ask questions that make people uncomfortable. I go on solo adventures. I have a lot of attitude and don’t mind people knowing it.
So I oscillate between stressing about life’s almost-dangers and being one myself. It’s a strange life, but it’s mine. I know you guys have your own strange lives and are navigating your own tiny hazards every day. This blog is a place where I can share mine with you.