The marginal utility of anxiety.

I’m sitting at Sbux, at the bar along the window, looking out. I’m actually not looking out because I’m trying to get work done and I have a thousand pages laid out in front of me, highlighter in one hand and a bunch of colored stickers in the other. Probably they’re not going to do me much organizational good in the end but for now they make me feel better. And that’s enough for the moment. Anyway, here I am, inside and reading. And I look up because it seems that a shadow has lingered too long above my line of sight, and I see a man and he stares really intensely and weirdly at me. Sort of makes a face, not really a mean or scary one. Something about it is particularly intense though, enough to make me annoyed enough to have to write it out before I can go back to working.

Good anxious feels like bad anxious. It's been impossible to tell them apart. When there are both good anxious and bad anxious happening at the same time, they do not cancel out. Happy and sad can coexist and what is left but headaches?