I seem to have found myself waiting for bad weather this morning. I’m not sure why but instead of squeezing the oddities of my existence out of my brain like wringing the suds out of a kitchen sponge and compiling today’s droplets of goofiness into this week’s blog entry, I keep double clicking over to the local news’ internet live-feed to see if the predicted few inches of snowy mess has arrived on the outskirts of town yet. I can’t do much of anything when/if it does come but I keep checking like an impatient commuter repeatedly looking down the tracks as if that will bring the train to the station sooner.

So far it feels like another case of the Weatherman lying and dammit, I’m letting the weather-talking terrorists win by heeding their warnings and tuning in to watch. I feel like a pawn but I guess anything can still happen. The one thing I do know for sure is that my repeated peeks out the back window have had little effect on the sleet and snow mix that I might (not) have to deal with when I hit the road to work in a couple of hours. If nothing bad has happened yet, I know there is no way I am calling the staff announcing that I am cancelling business (again) today so there is really no reason to keep looking. I plan to leave a little early no matter what, I always do. Yet like an overdue mother anticipating the next contraction, I find the obsessive side of me taking over as I watch glitchy live streaming news video feeds of local reporters standing on the side of various area roadways trying to find creative ways to say that nothing is going on (yet).

At a different time when I was not trying to accomplish anything I might find it entertaining to watch bundled-up bubble-headed Buffy the Bimbo and the perfect haired but empty skulled Manbo the reporters try to kill dead air time by explaining the subtle difference between the non-existent freezing rain they predicted and the non-existent sleet they predicted. But the times that is fun to watch is when you don’t have to be anywhere and the inevitable winter muck is not hanging over your commute to work like an albatross necklace. As with most obsessions, todays weather one is based on reality but checking for changes every 10 seconds accomplishes nothing. I know that, but having a near intervention-like sit down with my brain to explain that fact has not seemed to have any effect on my actual behavior.

As much as I always wanted to be the mellow relaxed laid back guy, at this point in my life I am self-actualized enough to know that is a pipe dream. I will always be the paranoid overly obsessive type. I’m a what-if worrier. My head jumps to conclusions to pre-solve problems that have yet to (and might never) happen. The perfect example of this is that I show up painfully early to work, parties, dinners and especially the airport. I can’t just comfortably walk in all Fonzie like at the last second. I’m Painfully Early Boy! Luckily I married Even More Painfully Early Girl so the only arguments we have about that stuff is if we should leave ridiculously early or incredibly ridiculously early.

I used to give myself hell about the being early thing. OK, I still do. I realize that if it makes me calmer and happier to be early, what is the harm? If being there before everyone else brings my crazed overly-concerned brain the slightest ounce of comfort than why not. But I can’t even give myself that. I obsess over being obsessed about it. And if I try not to obsess over being obsessed I get obsessive over trying not to obsess over being obsessed. Oh jeez, no wonder my brain is mush.

I imagine how freeing it would be to not to be this way. How much extra time and energy my brain might have dan snowif it were not so busy fretting. Tidying up my messy medulla, sorry cerebellum and half-cocked hippocampus of all my useless obsessive ways would be exhilarating. I’m sure my memory would improve with all the extra space. Stress lines on my face would surely disappear if I was not making that pained tense contorted expression every 10 seconds. My blood pressure would drop to those of a meditating mountaintop swami. So why not just draw a line in the sand and do it? Free myself of the excess baggage? Good question, I’ll let you know my answer after I click over and check on the weather.


About mrdvmp

Mr DVMP spends his days breathing, eating and sleeping.
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  1. Phyllis Lewbel says:

    When I read that you are obsessively obsessive all I can think is, “You probably get that from your Father’s side, not mine!! Of course I say that about every ‘unusual, quirky, (hopefully) not me kind of obsession!!! It’s a good thing you are such a wonderful, great, terrific, thoughtful, (these obsessions are from my side of the family tree!!!!!) kind of son! I always obsess about my great kids!!

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