The Worry Buffet

This morning, after my alarm went off at half past six, I went back to sleep. Thirty extra minutes, just for me. When I woke up for real, I nudged my husband awake, and we spent the next hour talking about the one thing both of us are very good at: worrying. If worrying was a sport, I think we’d each have a shot at gold in all three events: past, present, and future.