Managing To Put Off Worrying About Things Until After the Second Cup of Coffee
In the world of competitive worrying.
I'm probably just a dabbler.
I mean, I bought the shoes.
And the equipment.
And I had good teachers.
And I practice a lot.
But I'm not as good at it as, say, others.
Like the grandma who tells you to put on socks because you'll catch a cold.
I can't touch that.
That said, I've won a few tournaments in my day.
And I'm not terrible for my age group.
Meaning, of course, I can hold my own.
In a group of worriers.
Even the really good ones.
For example, name a thing.
And I'll tell you how to worry about it.
Which I think is pretty good, considering.
And if you want to get into worrying.
Today is a great day for that.
Like, it's probably never been easier.
It's just so simple to access.
And pick up.
You barely need anything.
And you can do it from almost anywhere.
Even sitting by a stream in the middle of a forest.
Or, drinking a coffee in the morning, say.
When everybody else is asleep.
And the sun is just starting to come up.
And the only thing you can hear are bird peeps.
And the occasional car.
And the creaking of the house.
Oh, and that odd dripping sound, where's that coming from?
It's probably nothing.
Anyway. What I know about worrying, I can teach you in an hour, tops.
And then you can just take it from there.
To be honest, the less you know, the better.
It really is one of those things that comes naturally.
And, who knows, maybe we'll play each other.
In some tournament or something.
Or just do some worrying together.
Non-competitively, of course.
On a warm summer's evening.
After a nice dinner.
And some good conversation.
About all the things that make us worried.
