Over the years I would get a little “anxious”.

No. Not like eager to do something.  More like, what the fuck am I doing or this feeling that things aren’t going to work out exactly right.

It’s a weird feeling.  My wife calls it a nervous stomach.  I guess it’s what public speakers and actors call butterflies.  All the same, it makes me wonder why I can’t seem to get over the feeling.  All this fake it ’til you make it crap just doesn’t seem to help out.

The Changes

I made some changes recently and I’m sure that adds to it.

New company.  Yeah, I wanted to leave the old one and start with the new one.  Still, it wasn’t easy.  It wasn’t as if the old place was absolutely intolerable.  It’s just that it was time to leave.  The unknown part is how things will work out at the new place. Sure.  Everyone seems friendly enough and helpful enough and all that.  It’s just something I can’t put my finger on and that’s the anxiety producing part.

The Cure

Well, there’s Xanax, of course.  Better living through chemistry and all that.  Maybe I could stop watching the news and seeing the stock market plummet like a Mafia snitch in cement shoes.  Stop seeing how Congress is screwing up my life as if it even cared.

I don’t know.  It’s been nagging me for awhile.  I wish I could figure out the origin. That way I could probably eliminate the casue and go back to being happy and care free.  As if.