I think waiting for the power to go out is worse than dealing with its absence.
Flush the toilet one more time, hurry to put the last load of laundry in the dryer, fill the sink with soapy rinse water. Charge the computer, the tablet, the cellphone. Stack the wood, stoke the fire, boil one more pot for tea.
This blizzard is the perfect microcosm for my anxious world.
The worrying is worse than the event.
The scenarios the brain can come up with cause more pain than living through the eventuality.
The waiting, the waiting – for the other shoe to drop, the limb to fall, the powerline to go slack.
My mind is spinning faster than the vortex of wintry wind outside.
I am not thinking of the warm cocoon my house provides, the heat radiating from the wood stove that didn’t exist during the last such storm, the canned and dry goods in the pantry.
I am on edge. I am a raw nerve. I am living in fear of the worst outcome not happening – for if it did, I’d be free of the worry.