Yesterday I started panicking, as I am known to do. But I never panic over anything normal, o no, that would be easy. Or, well, normal. I panic over crazy stuff that I have no control over. Like the fact that when I was little I couldn’t pronounce Rs. I was in speech therapy for years, all because I replaced my R sound with a W.
I’m an adult now, and I haven’t been in speech therapy for fifteen years or more. But combine a best friend who is a speech language pathologist, so we discuss the topic a lot, with an occasional slip up and a boy named Rory and I get panic attacks.