Worry warts…

Here are two personality types you don’t want to put together: The Worrier and The Complainer.

I’ll preface this by saying my unemployed status is really beginning to get to us. I’ve never been out of work for this long and I know it has me very stressed. I can’t imagine how Vicky must be feeling and – as you’ll soon see – I don’t think she’s imagining much, either.

I’m a worrier. I worry about everything. It’s just how I am. During the best of times, I don’t worry so much but it’s the nature of the beast (and I’m the beast) that when things get bad the worrying ratchets itself up. And things are bad. Without going into too many details, no work and little money have eroded our dreams like sand castles on the beach during a hurricane. My car is in desperate need of service. Our savings are long gone. We are forced to have to decide if we can afford Del Taco.

Vicky, on the other hand, is a complainer. She bitches and moans about everything – even if it has nothing to do with her or if there’s no way to fix it. I guess she figures it’s her way of contributing.

So, she got home last night and I was already very stressed out and she starts bitching – the sprinkler outside is broke, the washing machine is a mess, and on and on… And all I hear is, “If you had a job, we could move somewhere where the sprinklers aren’t always broke.” “If you had a job, we could get the washing machine fixed.” And on and on.

And I lost it. And I started yelling like a crazy person – because that’s pretty much what I am right now. Everything is falling apart. I can’t catch a break no matter how hard I try or what I do.

My bad.

I don’t know how many other people are there are in this boat but I’m trying to keep in mind I’m not alone. It just feels a lot like it.