I ind mysel in constant worry mode. It seems I have always been comortable in worry mode. I think I got it rom my mother. Growing up, I watched her worry about stu she couldn't possibly have control over. I saw her make a big deal out o things that were very minor. I suppose having 4 kids and a ull time job with an absentee husband who worked all the time was tough on her. I just don't think they make people like my mother anymore. I mean, the woman still has balls and she is battling dementia. I am constantly reminding her o the lessons she taught me... especially the one about stealing. When I was 6, I stole a rock rom dean's rock shop. I orgot about it and let it in my jeans. When mom ound it, she knew I had no money or it. I received a chewing out, a lecture, and a beating beore she drove me back to the rock shop to return the item. Little did I know she called Dean to let him kno what happened. It was a set up. I went inside and apologized to Dean in ront o my mother and handed the rock back to him. That was 1974 and I have stolen nothing since that time. I've been stolen rom, but I never steal. You see, back in the day, when a kid messed up he usually got his ass beat. It was a kind o deterrent. I never liked getting beat, so I always listened to the words and elt the pain so as to NOT experience that shit again. It has to be done early in lie I think. Being the last child, I think my mother knew that by the time I was o age.