Whenever something good happens to me, I wait for everything to fall apart.
And I don't just mean I think things will take a turn for the worst. I mean I wait for my life to flame out in spectacular fashion.
When I paid my car off, I spent MONTHS anxious that I'd soon total it.
If I come into money, I am certain it will somehow be stolen.
If I get a new job, I wonder if I'm suddenly going to be stricken with some form of aggressive cancer, leaving me unable to make it to my start date.
In short, I am fucking ridiculous.
I don't know exactly when this became a habit. It seems some extreme form of the motto by which I live my life; if you stay ready you ain't gotta get ready. And so I am always looking for the boogie monster under the bed.
The problem is of course, like with most things, when you go looking for something, you almost always find it.