Interlude
Chillaxing
I am a worrier. I don’t think I come across that way to most people. I’m a Virgo, and Virgos are typically perfectionists, and extremely analytical. Other Virgos, when learning of my birth sign, are skeptical — are you sure?
I am sure of my birth date, yes. What other factors control my destiny, not sure at all. Whatever I present outwards, inwardly I worry, fret, and obsess. We have been traveling a great deal since our retirement and travel is a great source of uncertainty. Note: I am not complaining about this; I am observing. It goes with the (unfamiliar) territory: you don’t control the airlines or the weather. You don’t know where the stores are, and you generally don’t know any people. When we were in Medellin, we barely spoke the language. In Medellin, of course, we had our family to hold our hands, but they couldn’t be with us 24/7. And there we transported our dogs, bless their furry hearts, who added another layer of things to worry about.
Then there are health concerns: we are spry for our age, but that can be small comfort as there is a Clock ticking. It’s always been ticking, I know that, but it’s louder now and harder to ignore. And that tick-tocking is part of my mental soundtrack. I can turn down the volume but it’s there, inescapable and inexorable.
