About Overthinking in Pajamas

Post 751:

            There are so many quips, quotes and tidbits about getting started, it’s hard for me to know where to begin…

            And there we have the proof.

            I’ll pivot to personal anecdotes. Never in all my life have I enjoyed a morning. Not initially, at least. It is said that nothing good happens after midnight. I say nothing fun happens before noon.

            Generally.

            And since I’m all about the fun and the free, it’s hard to get pumped at a new day’s commencement. It’s hard for me to get pumped about the commencement of anything, really. I would rather find myself in the middle of a meal than have to deal with choosing my seat or deciding where to go or who to go with.

            Anyway. Sounds weird. Maybe obvious. Don’t… know.

            When I was super little, I remember crying on Monday mornings. I thought of all the activities scheduled for the week, the sports practices and lessons and school garbage—I’d break down in my pajamas. This would only last about a minute, but honestly, my default was and still is to some degree dread.

            Overthinkers tend to have this problem. Instead of all the cool stuff that’s going to go on, we grind our gears on the cool stuff and bad stuff and everything in between until it’s all one murky mess.

            This is why overthinking is pretty dumb. One might correlate overthinking with intelligence, but that’d be a mistake. I think the real smart kids were the ones waking up not crying in their pajamas.

            It probably sounds like I was an unhappy tyke, but that’d be way off. I was weird and hyper and goofy as hell, but mostly it was a blast.

            Just those damn beginnings. The first day of school. The first paragraph of a report. The first words meeting a cute girl. All overthought. And all completely unnecessary. Things turn out all right. It’s not cloud nine 24/7 and it ain’t Ragnarök either. Overthinkers, being kind of dull-brained, don’t think about the odds of a worst-case-scenario actually occurring.

            They’re something close to zero. Trust me. I still know my times tables.

            I’ve grown out of the melodrama—mostly—but I still don’t face waking up with vim and vigor. Morning people truly astonish me. What’s so awesome about dragging your bones from that wonderful nocturnal cocoon? Coffee? Morning sun? Hope? Positivity?

            Gross.

            I might try pre-thinking instead of overthinking. I don’t know if it’s any better, but it sounds artificial and thus hip and fresh, like most worthless things that serve as placebos until they are destroyed by their own ineffectuality. Just think of a health food store. There… you got it.

            Dammit. Again I go with the spiraling. Ok I’m done. Top of the morning to you!

            Cheers and see you after.