Worried

I'm sensitive. Anyone that knows me know that. And by that I don't mean that I cry when people offend me, if that was true I wouldn't have any friends. I'm sensitive to other people's thoughts and feelings. This causes me to worry. A lot.

I mean, I worry about myself too. My friend Julie and I spent probably 45 minutes yesterday talking about something we're worried about... that's in February. But what I'm talking about is how I worry about other people, whether I know them or not. Today I found out my empath quotient, which is graded on a scale of 1 to 80. The average woman gets about a 47. I got 62, which is somewhere on the border of above average and unusually high.

Being an empath has often put me in the situation where I'm the friend that people can go to for anything, which in turn puts me in the situation of knowing things I can't tell anyone. And although I don't really mind being that person and I love that my friends can trust me, but I do bear a constant emotional weight on my shoulders. I'm not complaining, exactly. I've just had an emotionally exhaustive week. Let's just say, on Wednesday night alone I cried four times because my old teacher got married and is moving to Brazil.

My friends tease me for being emotional, but it used to be so much worse. When I went to high school I made a resolution to stop crying in front of people, and I didn't until January of that school year. Now I do so sparingly, which is still probably more than most people. Oh, well. Better out than in as I always say (name that movie quote).

The fact that I'm so open with my emotions has probably greatly contributed to the fact that two of my favorite things are writing and acting. Go figure.

This is getting increasingly ramble-y and I don't really remember what I intended to write about. I titled this entry "Worried." Probably because I am.

Happy birthday to Jeff Bridges, Fred Armisen, Tyra Banks, and Orlando Brown.

I have too much to do.