Molehills

Too many little 

insignificant details

crowd the big picture.

I sweat the small stuff. I cry over spilled milk. I make mountains out of molehills, and I fail to see the forest through the trees. I do all of those cliches that my mother warned me about. I obsess over that which does not matter. I fight with my boyfriend over whether I should have asked him for a ride or whether he should have offered me a ride. I rewrite emails four times before I send them. I change my profile picture based on who I think might be viewing my Facebook page. I worry about whether I am using "I" to many times in this blog. I know I have a problem, and I do not anticipate solving it.