Some say I worry a lot. I say bull$hit. There are only two times when I worry: Day and Night. The rest of the time I’m calm as a corpse.
But, on those rare occasions (like today) when I’m deeply concerned about losing my job and having my performance visibly measured against me (and it will be against me, I feel sure), the Irish have a sure-fire way of placing those worries into instant perspective.
There are, the old saying goes (complete with thick brogue, don’tcha know?), only two things to worry about in life: Either you are well, or you are sick. If you’re well, now…well, then there’s nothin’ to worry about, now is there?
If you’re sick, don’tcha know, there are only two things to worry about: Either you’ll get well, or you won’t. And if you get well, then there’s nothin’ to worry about now, is there, don’tcha know?
And if you don’t get well, there are only two things to worry about: Either you’ll live, or you’ll die. And if you live, well then…there’s nothin’ to worry about now, is there?
But if you die, well then, you’ve only got two things to worry your pretty little head over, don’tcha know: Either you’ll go to heaven, or you’ll go straight to hell. And if you go to heav’n, there’s not a thing in the world to worry about, now, is there?
But if you go to hell, don’tcha know, you’ll be so busy shakin’ hands with all your old friends from the good ol’ days, you’ll not have any time to worry!
Have a good, worry-free day today, courtesy of the Irish. Me? I’ll worry enough for the both of us, don’tcha know.