Firkin Anxiety

Yesterday was quite a bit more adventure than I was prepared to deal with. I was following the busses to Brisbane to visit the Kelvin Grove campus of QUT so I could keep an eye out on Miss Chaos whilst she had a fun day of learning.

Which would have been fine except I misplaced the busses at the very last turn and got the first parking space I could achieve.

As I predicted, I got frelling lost. I got absolutely, hopelessly, confoundedly L-O-S-T. And as a direct result I then went about on a Leyland's Tour of every single high hill and wrong direction I could possibly take.

In the scorching heat.

But with the help of countless strangers, I eventually found my way around to the right place and my darling little girl.

And a fun 90% of a day was had before I had to take her home. Miss Chaos put up with enough talking for the day and just... literally flopped all over me. Which was a clear signal that she was DONE.

But it was the evening that got to me. I spent a good two hours attempting to distract my mind from whether or not I thanked all the strangers I asked for help. Like, what the actual shit, my brain?

I'm pretty sure none of them really cared whether a random stranger thanked them or not. I'm pretty sure they got on with their day.

And I'm also certain that I'm pathologically incapable of not thanking people as some kind of anxious kneejerk response.

But no, I worry about this sort of shit anyway.

Turns out Serotonin can't shut my brain the fuck up when it's determined to give me an arseload of shit.

Which is a good thing to know because today is the day to complain to the doctor about it. Huzzah.