by Sarah Knight
The gathering shitstorms: a list
You may already know this about me, but I fucking love a list.
In this section, and in keeping with what I asked you to do back in part I, I’m going to name some of my what-ifs—the things that wake me up in a panic or keep me from fully enjoying my afternoon spritz—so I can figure out which resultant worries deserve my attention and which ones I can discard, then start organizing my response to the rest.
Lists, man. Lists give me life!
For now, I’ll stick with Shit That Hasn’t Happened Yet because it’s easier to practice on a theoretical. Fear not, though—we’ll deal with Shit That Has Already Happened a bit later in the book.
10 WHAT-IFS I MAY OR MAY NOT NEED TO WORRY ABOUT
• My house key gets stuck in the door
• A palm tree falls on my roof
• More tarantulas appear in my house
• I get into a car accident on the winding mountain road to the airport
• It rains on my day off that I wanted to spend at the beach
• My cats die
• I order a different pizza than usual and it isn’t very good
• My editor hates this chapter
• I show up for a speaking gig and totally bomb
• I ruin my favorite pineapple-print shorts by sitting in something nasty
Now I’m going to ask you to make your own list of what-ifs. Like mine, they should be drawn from Shit That Hasn’t Happened Yet.
If you are a generally anxious person who has also been known to gaze into a clear blue sky and imagine a plane falling out of it and onto your hammock, this should be an easy exercise.
If you consider yourself merely situationally anxious—worrying about shit only if and when it happens—I envy you, buddy. But I still want you to make a list, because it doesn’t really matter whether every time you sit in the chair you’re worried the barber is going to cut it too short. One of these days, he may slip up and give you an unintentional asymmetrical fade, and you’ll have to calm the fuck down and deal with it—the strategy for which is the same for all of us. Use your imagination.
10 WHAT-IFS I MAY OR MAY NOT NEED TO WORRY ABOUT
Next, we’re going to bust out our probometers and categorize each of these potential shitstorms by probability. Looking at problems rationally and based on all available data—like your friendly neighborhood weatherperson would look at them—helps you budget your freakout funds effectively.
I’ll annotate my list/categorizations so you can follow my train of thought.
10 WHAT-IFS I MAY OR MAY NOT NEED TO WORRY ABOUT: RANKED BY PROBABILITY
• My house key gets stuck in the door
Cat. 2—POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY
It may seem trivial, but I worry about this because it happened once before and my husband had to climb a ladder and go in through a window, which made us realize how unsecured our windows were, so now we’ve installed locks on those. Therefore, if my key gets stuck in the door again, I’ll be stuck outside with the mosquitos waiting for a locksmith, which, per earlier, is a dangerous game in this town. Since we never figured out why it got stuck that one time, I have to assume it could happen again. However, the ratio is like, one thousand door unlockings to one stuck key, so probability remains low.*
• A palm tree falls on my roof
Cat. 2—POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY
There are only two palm trees within striking distance of our house, and we had two actual Category 5 hurricanes pass over our town in two weeks last summer. So far, so good. Then again, climate change. I’ll give it a 2.
• More tarantulas appear in my house
Cat. 1—HIGHLY UNLIKELY
I’ve been here several years and seen exactly one tarantula. On a day-to-day basis, this is a technical 1, even if it’s an emotional 5. Emuppies, in the crate you go. Logicats, be on the lookout, ’kay?
• I get into a car accident on the winding mountain road to the airport
Cat. 2—POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY
I had to think a little harder about this one—you often do, when the worries are about really bad potential shit. My first instinct was to call it a Cat. 4 Highly Likely simply because every single time I get in that taxi I fear for my life. But I’m a nervous passenger, equally terrified on third world dirt roads and well-maintained five-lane highways in developed countries. And if we’ve all been paying attention, we know that our level of anxiety about the problem doesn’t predict the probability of the problem occurring. I can’t bring myself to call it “highly unlikely” (I’ve seen, um, a few accidents on the way to the airport); however, “possible but not likely” feels both accurate and manageably stressful.
• It rains on my day off that I wanted to spend at the beach
Cat. 4—HIGHLY LIKELY
I’m not making this up for effect—it is currently raining (and has been all morning) while the sun is shining brightly. I will never understand this form of tropical shower. WHERE IS THE RAIN COMING FROM?
• My cats die
Cat. 5—INEVITABLE
Cats are fascinating, crafty beasts, but they are not immortal. (I suppose there’s a small chance that Gladys and/or Mister Stussy will outlive me, but that’s a Category 1.)
• I order a different pizza than usual and it isn’t very good
Cat. 1—HIGHLY UNLIKELY
I’m a creature of habit and I’m very good at predicting what toppings will work in harmony on a pizza. Get to know me.
• My editor hates this chapter
Cat. 1—HIGHLY UNLIKELY
Like driving the winding mountain road, this is a situation where my innate anxiety initially compels me to forecast a more severe shitstorm than is on the radar. When in truth, it is neither inevitable nor even highly likely that my editor will hate this chapter. We must use all available data to make our predictions. And Mike? He’s a lover, not a hater.
• I show up for a speaking gig and totally bomb
Cat. 2—POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY
Again, setting aside the anxious emotions and focusing on the raw data, I have done a fair amount of public speaking and I have never once bombed. But there’s no point in jinxing it, so we’ll call this a 2.
• I ruin my favorite pineapple-print shorts by sitting in something nasty
Cat. 3—LIKELY
In my new hometown, it’s nearly impossible not to sit in something nasty at one point or another—be it dirt, sand, a squashed bug, animal poop, motor oil, or an old wet cigar. With indoor/outdoor living comes schmutz. With tourists comes litter. With drunk people and children come spills. Ah, island life. I used to think I could keep this brand of shitstorm to a Category 1 if I just didn’t wear my favorite shorts whenever I went to… oh, right. Everywhere I go is schmutz waiting to happen. Sigh. On the bright side, I have a washing machine and I know how to use it! Category 3 it is.
Looking over my annotated list, you’ll see that out of ten random things I have been known to worry about—and that haven’t even happened yet—three of them are Category 1 Highly Unlikely. That’s 33.3 percent of my shit off the screens, right there.
Category key
1. HIGHLY UNLIKELY
2. POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY
3. LIKELY
4. HIGHLY LIKELY
5. INEVITABLE
Another four of them are Category 2 Possible But Not Likely. We are now more than halfway through my what-ifs and they’re dropping like flies in the champagne room.
I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling calmer already.
So, are you hip to categorizing your own list? I’ll give you extra space to jot down your thought process like I did—because sometimes you have to explain yourself to yourself before either of you can understand where you’re coming from.
10 WHAT-IFS I MAY OR MAY NOT NEED TO WORRY ABOUT: RANKED BY PROBABILITY
Category:
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Category:
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Without being there to look over your shoulder or knowing you personally (Well, most of you. Hi, Dave!), I’m guessing that a solid chunk of your what-if list is populated by Category 1s and 2s like mine was, which you can and should stop worrying about posthaste. Later in part II, I’ll show you how to do just that. (Hint: it involves the One Question to Rule Them All.)
And even if you’re a little heavier on the 3s, 4s, and 5s, you’re about to pick up a whole lotta new strategies for weathering shitstorms by discarding unproductive worries and organizing a productive response.
Mental decluttering. I’m telling you, it’s the tits.
What’s your status?
Once you have logically, rationally determined that a what-if is a probable shitstorm, a useful follow-up question is “How soon is it going to land?”
There are three levels of urgency:
OUTLYING
An outlying shitstorm not only hasn’t happened, you can’t even be sure if it will. Theoretically, these should be the easiest to stop worrying about because they are both unlikely and distant—low pressure and low priority. Ironic, since low-pressure situations are what create legit rainstorms, but once again, metaphors and the anti-gurus who employ them are imperfect.
Examples of outlying shitstorms
You might lose the election next year.
You might not get promoted as fast as you wanted to.
You might hurt yourself training for a marathon.
You might never hear back from that girl you met at the bar.
You might not lose the weight in time for the class reunion.
You might follow in your parents’ footsteps and need cataract surgery someday.
You might get beaten to that patent by a fellow inventor.
IMMINENT
Imminent shitstorms also haven’t happened yet, but they’re more solidly formed and you’re likely to know if and when they’ll hit. You still might be able to prevent an imminent shitstorm, but if not, at least you can prep for impact and mitigate the fallout.
Examples of imminent shitstorms
You might lose the election tomorrow.
You might not hit your 5:00 p.m. deadline.
You might fail your history exam on Monday.
You might get in trouble for that inappropriate joke you made in the meeting.
You might not qualify for the mortgage.
You might miss your tight connection in Philly.
If she sees you leaving the building on her way in, your sister might find out you slept with her boyfriend.
TOTAL
A total shitstorm is one that is already upon you. You might’ve seen it coming when it was still imminent, or it may have appeared out of nowhere like some twelve-year-old YouTuber who has more followers than Islam and Christianity combined. It matters not whether the effects of the storm would be considered mild or severe (by you or anyone else)—it’s here, and you have to deal with it.
Whether the shitstorm is a Highly Unlikely Category 1 or an Inevitable 5—if it hasn’t happened yet, you can worry about it less urgently than if it’s just about to or if it just did.
Got it?
Examples of total shitstorms
You got red wine on your wedding dress.
You got red wine on someone else’s wedding dress.
You received a scary diagnosis.
Your company downsized you.
Your car got towed.
You lost a bet. A big bet.
Your kid broke his leg.
Your wife told you she’s pregnant… with someone else’s baby.
The more the hairier
Okay, but what happens if you have multiple storms on the radar and you’re reasonably confident you’re going to need to spend time, energy, and/or money worrying about/dealing with all of them?
There’s a reason the phrase is “mo’ money, mo’ problems,” not “mo’ problems, mo’ money.” You don’t get a magical influx of freakout funds just because you’ve had a magical influx of shit land in your lap. Keep using urgency as a tool for determining the prioritization of withdrawals.
Here’s a little quiz:
1. You fucked up at work, but your boss doesn’t know it yet because she’s on vacation for two weeks.
Category:
Status:
2. Your wife is 9.2 months pregnant.
Category:
Status:
3. This is a two-parter:
a. Your car is a relatively new make and reliable model. What if it breaks down?
Category:
Status:
b. Surprise! It just broke down.
Category:
Status:
ANSWERS:
1. Category 4 Highly Likely / Outlying Shitstorm (Also acceptable: Category 3 Likely / Outlying)
You’re pretty sure your boss is going to tear you a new one when she gets back. However, it’s going to be at least two weeks, which is in no way “imminent.” So much other shit could happen in two weeks—including your boss acquiring more urgent fires to put out than yelling at or firing you. (I’m not saying go full ostrich—just pointing out that the time to deal with your boss being mad at you is if/when you know your boss is actually mad at you. Maybe she’ll be too blissed out from her Peruvian ayahuasca retreat to even notice what you did.)
Save your freakout funds for now. Especially since (a) you can’t do anything about the fact that you already fucked up and (b) you might need that time and energy later to beg forgiveness or update your résumé.
2. Category 5 Inevitable / Imminent Shitstorm
That baby is coming soon and you know it. You have no control over when or how, but you can do a little prep to make life easier in the eventual moment.
A prudent withdrawal of FFs is in order. Prepare for landfall by spending some time, energy, and money putting together a go bag, stocking the freezer with ready-made meals, and sleeping—because once that kid arrives it’s all over between you and Mr. Sandman.
3a. Category 1 Highly Unlikely / Outlying Shitstorm
3b. Category 1 Highly Unlikely / Total Shitstorm
Based on the information contained in the first part of the question, this should have been an easy Category 1. But as we know, SHIT HAPPENS—even, sometimes, the highly unlikely shit—and when its status leaps from outlying to total, you have to deal with it in a higher-priority fashion than either of the other two storms on the radar.
Prioritizing based on urgency. BOOM.
You’re going to need a car to drive yourself to work for the last two weeks that you definitely still have a job, and to drive Margaret to the hospital sometime, well, imminently.
Withdraw FFs immediately. Call a mechanic and see about getting your Volvo towed over to the garage, then call Hertz to see about a rental to tide you over.
Oh, wait, what was that? Margaret’s water just broke? Fuck. Another total shitstorm! In this particular case it doesn’t take a genius to determine that the one raining down amniotic fluid upon you and your sofa is the one you need to worry about first. Margaret’s comfort takes priority, and you can deal with your car sitch whenever there’s a break in the action.*
Time to reprioritize. Instead of a mechanic, you’re calling an Uber. And a cleaning service.
Choose it or lose it
When more than one shitstorm is vying for top priority, pick one to focus on for now. You can always switch back and forth, but if you try to do simultaneous double duty, you’ll blow through your freakout funds faster than Johnny Depp through a pile of Colombian marching powder, and lose your goddamn mind while you’re at it. I can see it now—you’ll be trying to change Margaret’s fan belt and begging the mechanic for an epidural in an absurd Cockney pirate accent. If you want to stay sane, pick a lane.
EXTRA CREDIT QUIZ QUESTION: You get lost whi
le hiking in the Sierra Madres (total shitstorm) and then you break your toe on a big stupid rock (total shitstorm numero dos) just as a rescue helicopter is circling overhead. Do you spend your time and energy wrapping your broken toe, or jumping up and down on it waving your only survival flare in hopes of flagging down your ride to the nearest ER?
Answer: P-R-I-O-R-I-T-I-Z-E. Jump for your life! Signal the chopper! (And carry more than one survival flare, kids. Safety first.)
To recap: When it comes to outlying, imminent, or total shitstorms, how do you prepare?
• Make like a weatherperson and forecast outcomes based on all available data.
• Ask yourself not only How likely is this to happen to me? but also How soon?
• And before you spend your freakout funds, ask yourself the One Question to Rule Them All: Can I control it?
Get ur control freak on
