I worry too much, I reckon

I found myself worrying about my rubbish in my bedroom this afternoon. How much I produce in a fortnight, and how much I can get away with taking out without people wondering what on earth I'm doing.

I find myself worrying about wether I'm going to miss the bus to work, but this blows over rapidly because I dislike my job.

I often worry about my dad, because he is a diabetic. Anything goes wrong, and I'm 400 miles away, and can do precisely 0.

I worry about my sister, because I do.

Recently though, my biggest worry has been my impending relocation to South Africa. Mainly because its a big scary thing and I know almost nobody out there. My entire life has been spent moving from house to house, so moving isnt the issue. Its the distance. My dad and my sister are staying put in their respective locales, and I'm flying further and further from the nest.

I have raging paranoia about being stuck out there and commiting some tiny felony whilst there and being imprisoned on Robben Island (Free The Swandanavian One!) for 37,000 years or so. I've read horror stories of the notorious "Numbers" gangs in the jails in S. Africa, and this has failed to cure my fear.

Couple this with heading almost blind into a field I know nothing about, and the odds of me succeeding are dwindling faster and faster with every passing thought to it.

HARUMPH.

I think I shall be forced to find solace in games of Mornington Crescent or GTA4 until I actually leave for the Dark Continent.

Shit.

Dark? I'm afraid of the dark...