I can't remember exactly how the pome goes - something about The coward dies a thousand times/The hero dies but once. I guess I know what that makes me; I can't do a thing without living and dying it a hundred times over beforehand. In fact, oftentimes I overthink myself to the extent that I end up completely unable to act at all.
It's a gift, I guess.
Today, for example. Today the 2007 Bruce Springsteen tour dates were announced. He's playing one gig in December, at the O2. And instead of a glorious wave of 'Yay, Bruce!' anticipation, all I can do is worry about whether we'll be able to get tickets, where the tickets will be available, how to find out, how to get online to book, how am I going to cover it up at work, what if something urgent comes in and I have to do that and miss the booking window ...? And then: where's the O2, how does one get there, how does one get back, what's the travel going to be like - and so on. The one thing I don't need to worry about is keeping the date free: I have 16 days' leave still to take this year, I can keep a day, or even a couple of days, in reserve. Except ...
Except that today work pissed me off to the extent that I went onto the Reed website to look for jobs. Nothing locally, of course, but there was a publishing assistant job in Oxford that looked as though I could do it. So I applied for it. And now I am worrying: either I won't hear from them, which will leave me (a) feeling rejected and useless and (b) still working where I currently am, and getting more and more pissed off with it (and being reliant on not getting on boss's bad side, because once that happens, you are finished); or else I will hear from them, and get an interview, and then I will have to take time off for the interview, and find something to wear for it, and get into Oxford in time for it and, you know, actually do the interview - oddly, this is one of the parts I'm least stressed about. And then either I will not get the job and, again, feel rejected/be stuck where I am etc; or else I will get the job, and then I will have to get used to commuting into Oxford, and used to a whole new workplace, and what if I can't do the job, and what if the people are awful, and what about all my odd habits, like being hooked on Solpadeine, I'll have to go through all the same explanations all over again ... and, of course, the crusher: would I be able to get the day off for the Springsteen concert ...?
There has to be some way around this sort of thinking, which is, I am fairly certain, a large part of what has screwed up my life to date, and which is only getting worse as I get older. But I have not the first idea where to start. And if I did, I have no doubt but that I would see so many pitfalls in the way of doing it that I would end up never doing it at all.
On the upside, you will never see me signing up for a bungee jump.
