Sometimes I get anxiety about a bunch of things (some reasons that make more sense than others). But I have this one anxiety quirk that has never left me. And I want to know if I’m the only one who deals with it…
I get anxious about where I’m going to park when I arrive somewhere.
Like, for real.
If I am not familiar with the venue or area, I spend way too long worried about where my car will be situated. Like, my heart will actually race at the thought of it sometimes.
I will spend ages before I leave home, googling maps and wondering if it’s parallel street parking, whether there’s enough car spaces in the nearest car park and how much longer it will take me to get to my destination, if I have to account for finding a car space. I worry about where/when I’m allowed to park. What side of the road the parking is on and whether it is easy to access. I worry about how busy the area will be. WHAT IF I CAN’T FIND A SPOT AND EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL IN A HANDBASKET (what does that even mean). What the rules are for each car park: how long I’m allowed to park there for, whether it requires a ticket to be paid for, blah blah.
Because, despite my seemingly rebellious nature, I am a nervous, over thinking chook of a person when it comes to the idea of actually breaking any rules.
Yes. I am ridiculous.
This week, the Little Mister started kindy. I swear I spent so much time worrying about where I would need to park each day. I beat myself up for days for not remembering to ask anyone about this simple every day logistical thing ahead of time – I mean, I knew just about every other thing (trust me). His school has several car parks and I knew nothing of the rules. It was a little bit hilarious just how relieved I was when I got there (after scrolling through pages and pages of online official school documents to find a map) and realised that there were LOTS of places to park at drop off and pick up time. LOTS. And the ‘kiss and drop’ portion of the car park was clearly marked so I would not risk confusing it for a place to park in (we can’t do kiss and drop for kindy kids – obviously best to walk them in and out).
You would not believe how ecstatic I was. After finding my parking spot, I just knew the whole day would go well. Because my car had a spot.
It’s almost like I associate an easy parking experience with turning up somewhere feeling poised and confident and not flustered. Like it determines how well a meeting or an event will go. It’s like an extension of my social anxiety (which is a funny thing for a fairly outgoing person to have).
But like with any other anxiety I experience, it would do me good to remember that everything turns out OK in the end and is RARELY worst case scenario stuff. I haven’t been through anything I haven’t survived or learned from, right?
I mean, do you actually know anyone who couldn’t find a parking spot and that fact alone wrecked their whole entire lives/perception of themselves FOREVER? I mean, I’m sure there are rare exceptional circumstances in which this has probably certainly happened, but what are the odds? Come on, Kez. Get it together.
I am such a freak. Or am I?
Do you get anxious about weird things? Spill!!!
