The Joy of Fretting

I love to fret. God knows why, because it makes me miserable, but I spend a great deal of time doing it, so I must love it.

Anyway, I’ve got a large all-consuming fret going on right now in anticipation of my weekend, full of new things.

How do you recognize when I’m fretting?

  1. I’m distracted.
  2. I’m burping regularly.
  3. I’m getting some kind of rash on my face (so, egad, ignore my last post, folks. Stare at my boobs! Don’t stare at the rash!).
  4. I’m wandering aimlessly around the neighborhood.
  5. I’m babbling.
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3 thoughts on “The Joy of Fretting

  1. I do fidget with my bra when I get nervous. But I hadn’t thought of it as a deliberate strategy to keep people from looking at the weird rashes…

  2. huh, based on those last two i guess i’ve befriended a few perpetually-nervous homeless folks in my time.

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