Thank You, Rob

Rob Bryden the comedian was talking last night about going on stage unprepared and I suppose that's why I was dreaming I was due to play Othello in a few hours time and I hadn't bothered to learn the lines. 

Usually when I get these kind of dreams they're all about how I'm a vicar again and I can't find my place in the prayerbook.

So, thank you Rob.  Thank you for moving me on. If I have to choose between being dumbstruck at the altar and needing to improvise a major Shakespearian role I'll take the latter.  

If I've got to be anxious in my sleep let me at least be anxious about something cool. 

But there's no way of dodging the anxiety. Anxiety is a constant.  

In waking life as in dream.  

I'm not Woody Allen anxious-  not neurotic-  just continuously uncertain of my ability to cope.

I caught myself worrying yesterday about cooking tea. 

Cutting up a bit of chicken, warming it in some kind of sauce, fixing some rice-  the sort of task I perform every day- but I wasn't sure I could do it and I was procrastinating.

I live my life like this- worrying, dithering, feeling unable- only I don't normally bring it into full consciousness.

But it's not just me, is it- it's the human condition. The only people who don't feel this way are the psychopaths.