Cedric Farnsworth Worries Himself Away
When Cedric Farnsworth awoke from his nightly slumber each morning, he always had the same thought: "What if the Earth is struck by a giant meteor today?" That particular thought was always followed by a second thought: "Perhaps I should return all of the books that I have borrowed from the library, before they become overdue." His second thought usually was followed by a third thought: "I probably should eat less ice cream." At least once a week, he also had a fourth thought: "I wonder whether my situation would be helped if I changed to a different brand of shampoo?"
Cedric Farnsworth was prone to excessive worry. Even as a child, he had been known as a worrywart. While the other children were laughing, playing games together, and generally having fun, Cedric sat alone and apart, consumed by worry over the fate of mankind. Whenever someone told Cedric to "cheer up," he would reply by saying that the world was heading for certain doom. Once, when Cedric was eleven and a half, he forgot to worry for a period of nearly an hour, and was almost at ease. Cedric had never been referred to as the "life of the party," because Cedric had never even been to a party.
Everyone who knew Cedric repeatedly warned him that if he continued in his practice of relentless worry, he was quite likely to worry himself away, but Cedric was too occupied with keeping track of his many worries to pay any heed to their admonitions. He worried that if he ceased to worry, he might unknowingly stumble into a harmful condition of false happiness. He strove to be watchful of everything at all times, regardless of how much inner strength it required of him, and he was careful not to overlook any potential cause for worry. To Cedric, worry was more than a habit. It was, for him, a sacred calling.
Cedric walked his own worrisome path through life, worrying each step of the way, but after a number of years, living in a state of constant worry began to have a negative effect on his frame of mind. One worry was followed by another, in an endless chain of worries, until he could no longer think straight. His overall health began to suffer. He could not eat and he could not sleep. He was weighed down with a perpetual burden of worry, and he appeared to be several decades older than his actual age. It seemed that Cedric was, indeed, in danger of worrying himself away.
As the weight of Cedric's worries increased, he started to fade into nothingness. First his hands faded, one finger at a time, with his thumbs going last, and then his feet. It was painless, but it greatly discomfited him. When his legs faded, with the left leg taking slightly longer than the right leg, he knew that he was in trouble. Soon both of his arms faded, along with the rest of his body, including his head. When the last bit of Cedric's physical being had completely faded, he was left with a worry that took precedence over all others: "Perhaps it is not good to worry so much."
Cedric Farnsworth was prone to excessive worry. Even as a child, he had been known as a worrywart. While the other children were laughing, playing games together, and generally having fun, Cedric sat alone and apart, consumed by worry over the fate of mankind. Whenever someone told Cedric to "cheer up," he would reply by saying that the world was heading for certain doom. Once, when Cedric was eleven and a half, he forgot to worry for a period of nearly an hour, and was almost at ease. Cedric had never been referred to as the "life of the party," because Cedric had never even been to a party.
Everyone who knew Cedric repeatedly warned him that if he continued in his practice of relentless worry, he was quite likely to worry himself away, but Cedric was too occupied with keeping track of his many worries to pay any heed to their admonitions. He worried that if he ceased to worry, he might unknowingly stumble into a harmful condition of false happiness. He strove to be watchful of everything at all times, regardless of how much inner strength it required of him, and he was careful not to overlook any potential cause for worry. To Cedric, worry was more than a habit. It was, for him, a sacred calling.
Cedric walked his own worrisome path through life, worrying each step of the way, but after a number of years, living in a state of constant worry began to have a negative effect on his frame of mind. One worry was followed by another, in an endless chain of worries, until he could no longer think straight. His overall health began to suffer. He could not eat and he could not sleep. He was weighed down with a perpetual burden of worry, and he appeared to be several decades older than his actual age. It seemed that Cedric was, indeed, in danger of worrying himself away.
As the weight of Cedric's worries increased, he started to fade into nothingness. First his hands faded, one finger at a time, with his thumbs going last, and then his feet. It was painless, but it greatly discomfited him. When his legs faded, with the left leg taking slightly longer than the right leg, he knew that he was in trouble. Soon both of his arms faded, along with the rest of his body, including his head. When the last bit of Cedric's physical being had completely faded, he was left with a worry that took precedence over all others: "Perhaps it is not good to worry so much."