The sinking ship.

SCENE 1:

INT. NAT AND B'S BEDROOM. LATE.

NAT:  (obsessing about some random issue, as usual)

But what if X, Y, or Z happens? That'll be just awful. Maybe even the end of the world as I know it. 

B:  (gently)

Do you realise you're worrying about something hasn't happened, or may not even happen?

NAT:  (panicking)

Yes, but what if X, Y, or Z DOES happen? What will I do then?? Huh?

B:  (pause; taking Nat's hand)

Honey... You know, whenever you find one tiny leak in a ship, suddenly that ship is sinking. It's just a leak.

CUT ON NAT'S PENSIVE FACE, PERHAPS TAPPING HER FINGER TO HER JAW.

CUE DRAMATIC EXIT MUSIC.

------------------------------

He's right. The first part of that ramblish I'll-never-win-an-Oscar-for-screenwriting dialogue is just me taking creative liberties again, but the last line is real. B said it to me this week while my mind was performing cartwheels over something random.

And he's right. I do that. I'll often collapse under the weight of a sinking ship when I find a leak, made all the worse if the issue is important to me.

Is this a glass half empty thing? If I have mixed feelings about something, am I sentenced to default to worrying about the worst possibility? Am I the only one sinking ships? And how do I stop? Positive thinking? Mindless distraction?
Perhaps just leaning over and kissing the cute boy with the wise words?

And how many questions can I ask in one paragraph before the reader sinks his/her own ship because they're over my upward-inflection-ending questions?

OK, I'll stop. Got a leak to fix.

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