Nina Worrier Princess

A while ago I asked Siri to do something for me. Instead of her usual response of “certainly your Majesty” (yes I set her to call me that), she responded with the slightly less flattering, “Of course Miss Drama Queen.” At least she let me keep the royal title.
I was shocked. Had Apple finally developed technology capable of reading my personality? Gee, the robots really are taking over. She had a point though. I really do have a habit of worrying about the wrong things and it’s spoiling my fun.
It’s even messing with my love life. The other day I had a real-life human male of our species ask me for my number. He wasn’t doing a survey, running a scam or collecting for charity. Apparently he just thought I was nice, go figure.
Anyway we exchanged numbers and email addresses and all looked promising. Then I began to worry. Am I too high maintenance? Will my disability be an issue…again? I put these fears to the gentleman in question and even though I was assured this wasn’t a problem I chickened out. Way to go Nina!
I’m pretty sure in this situation it’s a method of self-preservation, a means to keep from getting hurt. But, in this instance, did I really need preserving?
It’s funny; I have no fear of physical pain. In January I made the ENT specialist remove my blocked grommet without anaesthetic because I couldn’t be bothered waiting a few extra days, had the dentist laugh at me for asking when he was going to give me the needle after he’d already done it, and attempted (not intentionally) to demolish a wall with my head but as I had no pain saw no reason to see a doctor, yet I am a massive wimp when it comes to emotional pain or my ego.
For the record I am not a part time Crash Test Dummy. The wall thing happened when my then boyfriend pinched me on the bottom. I was so startled that I jumped, fell backwards and hit my head on the wall. It made such a tremendous thud and left me with such an impressive lump that it’s a wonder I wasn’t knocked out. Sometimes hard-headedness is a good thing.
Even when I went jet boating I wasn’t concerned about drowning (despite the fact that I can’t swim) and I had no fear of sharks (even though Perth is the shark attack capital of the world). No, I was worried about getting my hair wet of course.
As we zipped across the open ocean, music blasting from the giant speakers, wave upon wave of water washed over us. The more stunts we did the wetter we got so really there was no point in fighting it. I was laughing so hard that I’m pretty sure I swallowed half the ocean too.
I’m going again this weekend and this time I’m just going to go with it. I probably won’t wear a white t-shirt this time either.
As it turns out the robots are not taking over the world after all. One of my “friends” had just been playing with my phone settings. Thanks Pete, I owe you one!
XOXO