Always the party pooper
Today is the first of two Mischief tryouts. The team has been trying to organize fun activities around the event, as playing at Baylands is always fun, both for the wind, and with the barbecue pits next to the Great Meadow.
At one point yesterday, a teammate suggested, well, hinted really, that water balloons would be fun to bring and use. If the weather is hot, then water balloons are indeed a great way to cool off. The problem with this, however, is that Baylands is a protected wildlife habitat. Various things are prohibited at the part in order to continue that protection, dogs and balloons being two of such prohibitions.
When the teammate made the suggestion, I immediate responded with a request that people not bring said balloons, as they both endanger the environment, as well as the ultimate community's continued use of the Great Meadow.
My request wasn't unreasonable, it was perfectly justified. However, after making the request, I totally felt like the world's biggest party pooper. Once again, here I am, telling everyone what they can't do. Don't bring balloons. Don't bring glass to the fields. Don't do this. Don't do that.
What is it about me that I'm always worrying about these things? I blame it on "being responsible" sometimes, but I'm not sure that's really the reason (but it certainly the problem).
At Nationals last year, when we had made it into the finals, DanO and Pickett bought a bottle of champagne, just in case we won. When we did win, they brought out the bottle, and opened it. They opened the bottle. The big glass bottle. The big glass bottle with lots of cameras all around and everyone watching as we violated one of the biggest tournament rules: no glass on the fields. DanO handed the bottle to me and I upended the thing, drinking a full swig of the victory champagne.
I later asked him why he handed me the bottle first, since I hadn't actually played in that game. He said it was a litmus test: if anyone was going to be upset with the glass on the field, I would. If I drank from the bottle, he'd pass it around the team. If I had reacted with shock or been upset at the clear rule violation, he'd put the bottle back into the bag and sneak it back off the field.
I think we were both relieved I decided to tip it up and drink. The incident clear shows, however, just how much everyone views me as the worrier, the rules enforcer, the party pooper. I've talked to Kris about it, as I talk to him about many of the things I worry about. His advice is still the same as it was before: remind myself it doesn't matter.
Should I worry that everyone thinks I'm a worry wart?
Eh, doesn't matter.