This has nothing to do with lawns. No matter how many weeds grow in my yard (my dad says the difference between people's people and the bourgeoisie is "yard" vs. "lawn"), I don't get anxious. And I also don't usually get anxious about work- even when things are new or difficult or unknown, I enjoy the challenges and get huge amounts of support from my staff and co-workers.
But, for some reason, last week I was experiencing an absurd and inexplicable anxiety about a different kind of deposition I had to take. I have done lots of depositions, but this was a medical one and it had me totally off my game. Nobody was pressuring me; nobody was telling me that if I screwed up, I would be sorry. In fact, I was specifically told that no matter how it went, it would be just fine. But, still I had a pit in my gut for days. I couldn't sleep; I was struggling to concentrate.
Then it started. And BAM. I was in a different mode. It was like the second the deposition actually began, all of my worry and anxiety was hovering outside of the me doing the job I had to do. Afterward, it took me several hours and cocktails to get back to "me."
Now, of course it's fine. I'm fine, but what a lame few days.
And, p.s.: Dear Brain: It would be really cool if you could not be such a freak show without warning. Please relegate your anxiety to doctor's offices and keep it out of the courtroom. Ok? Thanks.
2 comments:
You may have to accept that deposition anxiety is, by every measure, bourgeois.
It took me years to figure out that I was always anxious for day prior to any airline flight. Didn't matter where or how long or anything. Just a band around my heart and a question mark in my conscious mind. Then I put 2 and 2 together. Yeah, I'm not that smart.
Good point, Chris.
Although, I must tell you that now you and your friend whose office is just upstairs from yours have called me bourgeois in that last 24hours.
If I didn't know better, I'd think it was planned. :)
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