Announcement: Worry it Out

Today's post is going out to Claire from Harbour Master, who said I was hilarious and intelligent, and literally made my day.

So, if you've been reading my Blog for a little while, you'll no doubt be aware that A)

I am a  huge worrier, to the point where I have to wear a retainer to stop me grinding my teeth and I get stress ulcers (Hot, non?); and B) I am somewhat of a snob. Really, I have no right to be either - I lead a fairly charmed existence, and I was born into a lower-middle-class family, so I'm not exactly old money or anything. I am comfortable, in that I have a very well paying job, a boyfriend I adore, a circle of friends and family who tolerate my neurosis to the point of Sainthood, and enough disposable income to justify my ever-expanding wardrobe of demi-designer and quasi-vintage bits and pieces.

However, I tend to waft through life in a perpetual state of alarm and/or fury. 

The smallest things in the world will lead me to 'Worry a problem-out'. No, that is not a euphemism for masturbation*, it is an actual, factual process by which I attempt to imagine every possible facet and scenario pertaining to my current quandary- a process which usually leaves me so distressed and exhausted I collapse into a bucket of KFC and forget why I was psychotically worrying in the first place.

So, you can imagine how something like, say, returning to education to undertake an entirely new area of study, might, say, leave me in a fragile emotional and mental state.

To be perfectly honest, I have been obsessing over undertaking Fashion Design with a view to one day standing at the helm of my own label, for approximately nine years now. Nine years of umming and ahing, of weighing up the pros and cons of prospective schools, of judging my own creativity and wondering whether I'm actually good enough or not. My process of 'Worrying my problem out' has all but left me that undertaking Fashion Design will see my future going in the following way:

Enrol in Fashion design course

Proceed with course for a while, sitting at a B average
Inevitably wind up realising that all my designs are passe

Have my designs labelled as 'Sad McQueen imposters' by tutor

Drown my shame in mountains of KFC and cooking sherry

In a drunk and belligerent state, break up with my boyfriend, call my best friends and divorce them, and set all my clothes and possessions on fire before passing out naked in the street.

Become the homeless guy living outside my previous employer's building who barks at people.

Yes, that is literally how my brain works. I over-think things to the point of psychosis, and then my brain shuts down and I eat my pain, forgetting entirely what I was worrying about until I run out of fried chicken.

So, when my Course Materials for the Diploma of Fashion Design arrived this afternoon, after I enrolled last week in a fit of 'I CAN DO IT!' fever... Well. Let's just say the A4 sheet of KFC vouchers that arrived today are coming in handy right now.

Xx

*AH HA HA - I totally brain-p0wned you all then - now you're thinking of me in a compromising position and doubtlessly wanting to vomit a little. Sorry.