don't waste

Dallas wagged her tail with a worried, motherly shift back and forth. Jake was home from the hospital, smelling sterile and with a bandage across his face. Even outpatient sinus surgery can instigate anxiety, and Dallas was demonstrating what I'd been feeling for a few days. I stopped my shifting once the procedure was done and the doctor came out to the waiting room. Jake had made it through just fine and was coming out of anesthesia now. Now was time for prescription runs and the cooking of ramen noodles, but the bulk of worrying was done.

On Sunday morning we sat on a park bench drinking coffee and eating a Boston Creme, looking across Beverly Harbor. Jake was already mostly on the mend, going without his mustache bandage and working around the house again in small spurts. But, the issue with worrying is that it sticks around, and this time it stuck around longer than it even took Jake to get back on his feet . Do you know that feeling? The residual anxiety that takes days to wear off, and squirms its way into other not-necessarily-stressful tasks?

I come from a long line of worriers. Having married an anti-worrier I find that I worry both more and less these days- sometimes Jake's confidence calms me down, but other times it makes me worry enough for both of us. I don't want to be distracted by anxiety when there's a perfectly beautiful and un-stressful view of a harbor in front of me though. I don't want to waste those last few bites of a Boston Creme, never mind not wanting to waste the presence of the man who was sharing his doughnut with me in the first place.