Chaotic Awareness

I’ve been dubbed a scaredy cat many times. But for me, the term has taken on new dimensions. I am not just scared. Afraid. Jumpy. Nervous. I am terrified. Mortified. Shocked. I scream out of sheer terror when my father opens the door from the other side.  I shout from shock when my 44 year old “big brother” friend jumps out at me from around the corner.  When the lighting guy drops 36lbs of cables from the roof to the floor of my workspace.  When my best friend pokes me, just once, in the middle of my back, like only she can do. Chaotic awareness has been my downfall. I will die of a stress-induced myocardial infarction before I am 40. And if I don’t, then I shall become the “crazy old (scaredy) cat lady” of your neighborhood.