What, Me Worry?

Yes, Me Worry.

Someone recently asked me how I decide what funny things to write about, assuming that my life is chock-full of potential comedic material. Like I’m a character in a sitcom who’s constantly finding herself in a jam or a pickle or in some other food that comes a jar. Like I spend most of my weekends dressing up in costumes so I can infiltrate my husband Ricky’s big band that’s playing at the Tropicana Club. #Babalu

I didn’t want to break it to her that most of my brain power lately hasn’t been spent on coming up with killer one-liners, but on worrying. No need to go into details about what I’m currently worried about, because it’s kind of been my hobby my entire life. I’m always worried about something. My expression in most of my baby photos can best be described as, “Oh, shit, did I forget to unplug the iron?”

Yes, I know worrying is unhealthy, and yes I know it doesn’t help, and yes I know most of my fears are unfounded. A bearded gentleman named Jimothy on TikTok told me all of that right before he tried to sell me green juice. But also — what if my worry is helpful? What if my worry keeps loved ones’ planes in the air? What if anxiously calculating how many months we can make it on our savings before I have to become The World’s Oldest Pole Dancer™ is actually good financial planning? What if creeping up to the attic with a flashlight and a net because I’m worried the clanging noise isn’t just the water heater, then finding out I’m right and it’s an escaped convict named D-Train stealing our copper wire, results in a reward from the FBI and then I can quit my job at Thirstee Ladiez Strip Club? What’s bad about that?

I’m worried that you’re all worrying about me now.

Also, if you have my phone number, do NOT send me Bobby McFerrin GIFs after reading this.

Here’s a photo of a time when I was super worried, but I had every reason to be because I walked into the lobby of The Clown Motel in Tonopah, Nevada after my husband and kids dared me.

It’s a little blurry because my hands were sweating and I wasn’t entirely sure Ronald was fake. He kind of smelled like a fresh Filet-O-Fish and his eyes moved like a human’s.

But let’s get back to the “what’s funny to write about” topic because some good inspiration actually happened today. My husband Chris and I went out for cheeseburgers and because it was a classy place, we had to DIY dress them with condiments. I couldn’t get my packet of mayo open, despite yanking on the OPEN HERE tab about 100 times and loudly cursing Hellman’s, so Chris grabbed it and easily opened it with his teeth. Chivalry.

“That’s your Amazing Race talent,” I said as he proudly handed it to me. “We finally found it, man.”

Note: We are huge fans of The Amazing Race, but will never audition to be on the show because we once got in a huge fight backing the car out of the driveway. We would not survive going out of town with a camera crew.

After receiving his packet praise, Chris put his burger down and stated, “The ghost pepper, also known as bhut jolokia, is a hybrid chili pepper cultivated in Northeast India. It is known to cause sudden death when even slightly too much is ingested. In this detour, racers must open 10 packets of ghost pepper gel using only their mouths without losing all of their lip skin and/or dying. The last team to complete this challenge will be eliminated.”

We then happily riffed on this for the rest of lunch, with other race challenges like:

“Headquartered in New York, Macy’s is a legendary department store that’s fallen on hard times and now resembles a haunted rummage sale. In this challenge, racers must run through the store and try to find an actual employee to ring them up for an I.N.C. unstructured blazer while making eye contact. Keep in mind that the store rats know how to use the cash register, but they do not count.”

“For over 50 years, the citizens of Central Texas have bought their groceries at a prominent store called HEB. In this detour, teams must buy every item on this list including the vanilla milk I told you was in the dairy section and not the yogurt section — seriously, Wendi, I’ve told you this like 100 times, why is this so hard? Oh, don’t you dare bring up tortilla chips again because they all look the same on that shelf and it’s not like you can even tell the difference when you’re shoving them in your —what? We’ve been eliminated? Why, Phil?!”

Now, will this jibber jabber turn into a “The Amazing Race Challenges I Would Win” list for McSweeneys? Probably not. But it’s an example of how you don’t need to have funny things happen to you in order to write funny things. You just have to be kind of weird and maybe married to someone that appreciates that weirdness, and then you’ll find your material. Also, look for the humor in the small and ordinary. Who knew a mayo packet would make me stop worrying and start laughing today? Nobody.

Well, besides D-Train.

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Some other stuff I liked this week:

This book is so good, and a thinly veiled story about Ted Bundy’s almost victims.

This book is really, really funny and Ted Bundy isn’t in it.

The second episode of my new podcast, It’s Pronounced Memwah, is now ready for you to enjoy!

Thanks for reading!

—Wendi