Fresh Worry

My day began at 4:25 am. At least that’s what the clock across the room said as I got close enough to see it on my way to the bathroom. It was a fitful night. The number of things racing through my mind lately seem almost infinite. As a result sleep has been very hit or miss. Whenever I wake up after 3:30 or so there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep. Good thing I have this blog.

During the day, the pressures of my profession ebb and flow. During times of high “flow” I have grown accustomed to taking short diversion breaks, no more than a minute or two in duration to distract myself. One of them is the game Words With Friends, which I play with only one other person, an old friend from my Grove Avenue days. I’ll pull the game up on my cell phone and fire a word at her, then put the phone down and get back to my work. Whatever gets you through the day.

Yesterday was another friend’s birthday, or so I was informed in the wee hours of the morning. This provided me with another distracting coping mechanism for the rest of the day. At regular intervals throughout the day I would pause and think of old age jokes, then post them on Facebook…

You’re so old you knew Burger King when he was just a Prince.

You’re so old, the key on Ben Franklin’s kite was to your first apartment.

You’re so old you sat behind Jesus in 2nd grade.

You’re so old you’ve used Preparation A thru G.

You’re so old when you were born the Dead Sea was only sick.

Between these time-wasting side shows I managed to get some things accomplished. I completed my entire 2022 Firm Element Compliance regime between 11:00 and 3:30, managed to calm the fears of two clients, compose and edit a client letter for submission to legal for review, and eat lunch at a new-to-me Greek joint near Staples Mill and Broad where I discovered the epicurean delights of a Gyro Pizza. 

Then I arrive at home only to discover a fresh source of angst, a difficulty which one of my adult children is going through, and about which I am powerless. Honestly, this situation is worse than any work-related anxiety because it involves one of my kids. One of the things nobody ever tells you when you’re out there having babies is that one day thirty-plus years later you’ll still be losing sleep worrying about them. You desperately want to swoop in and save the day, but you can’t. It’s not your fight anymore. Well…it is but you no longer have jurisdiction. So you go to bed with something new dancing around in your head thinking of how you would fix it if you were King. But you’re not King.

You’re not even a Prince.