"Worrywart" is such an ugly word. Just because I have the ability to imagine the worst-case scenario in every situation, you don't need to call me the name of a disfiguring skin virus.

I worry, therefore I am prepared.

I know that a recently mopped floor could cause someone to slip and fall. So I warn everyone in the house to be careful.

Chocolate left on the kitchen table could tempt our voracious little dog to jump up and poison himself. So I make sure said chocolate gets put away properly.

As a copywriter, I imagine every potential disaster. (And there are so many!) Will this confuse or mislead people? Will the type be too small or too light for them to read? Will it print poorly? Could it be misinterpreted as an obscenity? (I check Urban Dictionary frequently.) How horrible would it be if there were a typo in this ad, which is worth thousands of dollars and will be viewed by thousands of people? PROOFREAD OBSESSIVELY. And then proofread again. Any maybe again.

Fortunately, as a skeptic, I only worry about real outcomes. I'm not superstitious. I don't worry if I spill salt, or walk beneath a ladder, or have unclean thoughts. But there are still an abundance of worries to fill my brain: Did I hurt her feelings? What if I sleep late and miss that meeting? What if the stock market tanks or I have a stroke?

Today, I had an exchange on Facebook that characterizes me perfectly. My friend Lorin is excited because he's getting a scooter. I rained caution on his parade. But only because I care.

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• This is the audiobook I'm listening to right now. And it is. So. Good.

As discussed in a previous post, I am an audiobook fiend. Also, a great fan of stand-up comedy. So it's no surprise that I adore comedians' memoirs. Following are a few that I have greatly enjoyed (in alphabetical order by the authors' last names). And because they are all in my Audible library, I can send you any one of them for free! Let me know if you'd like me to shoot one to you by text or email—it's very easy to do. And you won't be sorry. (If you click on the titles, you can listen to a sample.)
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• If at Birth You Don't Succeed: My Adventures with Disaster and Destiny, Zach Anner
• Nothing's Sacred, Lewis Black
• Drunk with Power, Margaret Cho
• Girl Walks into a Bar...: Comedy Calamities, Dating Disasters, and a Midlife Miracle, Rachel Dratch
• Bossypants, Tina Fey
• Dear Mrs. Fitzsimmons (The Audiobook), Greg Fitzsimmons
• A Bad Idea I'm About to Do: True Tales of Seriously Poor Judgment and Stunningly Awkward Adventure, Chris Gethard
• I Can't Make This Up: Life Lessons, Kevin Hart
• Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), by Mindy Kaling
• Kasher in the Rye: The True Tale of a White Boy from Oakland Who Became a Drug Addict, Criminal, Mental Patient, and Then Turned 16, Moshe Kasher
• I Can Barely Take Care of Myself: Tales from a Happy Life Without Kids, Jen Kirkman
  
• I Know What I'm Doing and Other Lies I Tell Myself: Dispatches from a Life Under Construction, Jen Kirkman
• You'll Grow Out of It, Jessi Klein
• Attempting Normal, Mark Maron
• Born Standing Up: A Comic's Life, Steve Martin
• Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood, Trevor Noah
• Yes Please, Amy Poehler
• You Can't Touch My Hair and Other Things I Still Have to Explain, Phoebe Robinson
• The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption, and Pee, Sarah Silverman

Some of the above may not be pure memoirs, and there are countless funny memoirs by the likes of David Sedaris, Julia Sweeney, Jonathan Ames, and others that aren't included because the authors aren't really stand-up comedians. But it's a solid list, and I'd be happy to share any one of the titles with you. (You can contact me directly here.)

I had never heard of ASMR until about a year ago, but when I did, it was a eureka moment. "THAT's what I've had all my life!" I thought. "It has a name!"

The full name is "autonomous sensory meridian response." And in my case, it comes to pass when I listen to certain sounds in certain circumstances. When the conditions are just right, I experience a delightful sensation somewhere in the back of my neck, but also sort of deep in my brain. The magic formula can involve crinkling paper, or whispering, or the tapping of fingernails. It also has something to do with where the crinkler, whisperer, or tapper is focusing his or her attention.

I know: weird, right? But it's oh-so-real. See that colored-in illustration and misspelled explanation above? I made that when I was about 10 years old. My very thoughtful mother even bought me a ream of onion-skin paper when I was a kid because she knew I loved the noise it made.

It's a little embarrassing to share this information, but I'm certain that I'm not alone. I even know a couple of other people who experience ASMR. (Interestingly, they both have synesthesia.)

Anyone else?​

This morning, I was given this dollar by a stranger. There were strings attached.

I was attending a "Caffeinated Mornings" event in Boulder. The featured speaker, Norm Shearer, posed a provocative challenge. He gave 30 audience members (including me) a crisp one-dollar bill each and asked that we do as much good with that dollar as we can—and then report back to him.

He's done this many times before, so he shared a few examples: A woman who bought a bag of clothespins, wrote complimentary and kind statements on them, and surreptitiously clipped them to people (on a backpack, say). A man who invested in a balsa wood airplane and took the time to play with a neighbor-kid who seemed to get left out of his large family's activities. A woman who lent order and courtesy to her apartment complex's chaotic dirt parking lot by spray-painting parking spots (which continued to be used after the paint wore away).

So, my ideas are percolating.

I'm reminded of my friend's cousin, who, finding himself completely broke in Paris, wrote out some recipes, used his last few francs to photocopy them, sold them on the street, and began his rise out of poverty.

I'm a writer, so I wonder if there are letters I could send. Or signs I could post. My daughter had a good idea—create and disperse a list of hotlines.

My daughter also thinks it's "cheating" if I ask for ideas here. I disagree. I say that when it's a good idea you're aiming for, the more minds, the merrier.

So: Any thoughts?