I love to catastrophize. Give me any scenario, and I rush to the worst-case.
Teenager running late? Car accident. Headache? Brian tumor. A forgotten actor’s name is the gateway to me wandering down the road without my shoes, or worse, my shirt.
There is no middle ground here. No fender benders or stomach bug. If I don’t remember Matthew McConaughey was in The Wedding Planner, I am doomed. Also, it just took me three tries to spell McConaughey so clearly the decline has started in the cognitive area.