For the last few months I’ve had an overwhelming compulsion. I realize how irrational it is, yet I can’t seem to shake it from my mind.
Every time I leave the house, I have to (and I mean have to) prepare for the worst case scenerio. So far not so crazy, right? Preparing for the worst case scenerio isn’t so bad. But I have to pack the car with blankets, water, snacks, extra hats and mitts, just in case the car breaks down or we get lost and run out of gas trying to find our way. And this is even if I’m driving five minutes down the main road to get to my parent’s house. You should have seen how much food I packed to go for a playdate yesterday. We could have eaten like kings for a week before feeling a hunger pain.
As I’m packing up, I’m telling myself that there is no way I’m ever going to need all this stuff, but I can’t help it. The majority of my brain is telling me to put the six granola bars back into the cupboard, but the rest of it scares me by thinking about me and my starving, freezing children huddled in the car in the middle of nowhere. How on earth I would end up in the middle of nowhere when the drive is literally a straight line through suburbia is beside the point. What if…? Could I ever forgive myself for not being prepared? No, and that’s why my car looks like a homeless person’s shopping cart.
I’m hoping this obsession will fade away soon. At least after the winter when being stranded in a forest wouldn’t require so much planning.