I had nothing to worry about – my life was calm and peaceful for the most part – but my beloved brain had decided that a life free of anxiety was a life wasted. To induce what it clearly considered to be the appropriate levels of dread and discomfort, it had trawled through recent events looking for something to fret over. Having found nothing, it had decided to catalogue every mistake I had ever made and every embarrassment I had ever suffered. In chronological order. That did the trick. Well done, brain.
