Don't Worry; Be Happy

One of the things I notice most as I age is worrying about everything. Actually not worrying as much as wondering why no one has common sense. Such as, why is the handicapped parking nearest the building, but farthest from the door? It's like map quest. There's the fastest route and the shortest route. The handicapped parking where I once worked was physically closest to the entrance of the building, but behind a curb. The person had to wheel themselves to the drive entrance, but then the ramp going into the building was back the other direction. They were almost wheeling one city block just to get in the building. It was probably, by law, within code, but come on! Another thing that troubles me is the braille at the drive-up window at the bank. Really?

Today I noticed that the live bait vending machine was out of order. Who stocks that thing? Is it heated? Will the worms survive this chill we're having? And if the machine doesn't get fixed, what happens to the bait? These are troubling thoughts.

You've realized you're older when you're concerned with what everyone is wearing. Why do kids wear shorts in the winter, but when it finally gets warm they wear stocking caps? Or you see people wearing sandals in the winter and you hope they have boots in the car in case they have car problems. And I bet that same girl wears Ugg boots during the summer.

Is worrying an aging process or genetic? Should I worry that I worry? No, it's probably we've been around the block so many times we're familiar with the view. Been there and done that. In case anyone digs out any of my pictures during the 70's like the one shown at top, I'll cool it on the fashion comments of today's youth. Using a bible metaphor, but way out of context, I'll remove the log out of my own eye before I try to remove the speck from my brother's eye. However, in the meantime, I'll be happy to wear my boots in the winter and my sandals in the summer (the white ones not until after Memorial Day, of course).