I do karate barefoot on mats that are covered in sweat daily and cleaned not so daily. The mats are sticky in places and smell bad, is what I'm saying. I try not to think about the mats when I'm standing on them.
I get home from karate and I go straight to the bathroom to clean my feet. First I douse them with rubbing alcohol. Then I have a shower and spend a few minutes scrubbing my feet with soap. Then I dry off and do another round of rubbing alcohol.
It's not the germs I worry about. It's not the sweat of strangers lingering on my feet that makes me clenchy. I've never had any sort of foot disease that has scared me senseless. It's just ... why not clean my feet? It takes five minutes. It seems logical to me to spend five minutes cleaning my feet to prevent any sort of foot mushrooms or toe plague or whatever it is I could contract from standing on scummy flooring. It doesn't seem abnormal to me.
But ... Shawn doesn't clean his feet after karate. He comes home and has a shower and cracks open a beer or checks his email or plays with the pups. He doesn't think about what could be growing on his feet. He doesn't worry that his toenails are going to fall out.
It makes me mistrust my brain. It makes me worry that maybe I'm reacting too strongly to other situations. Like the motorcycle.
Shawn took a professional motorcycle safety course that provided ten hours of classroom training and twenty hours of road training. He bought a jacket with armour in it, gloves, boots, and a full helmet with a face shield. He bought a motorcycle with an engine that matches his skill level. And yet ... I worry. I worry about things that I can't articulate because writing them down makes them more real.
At the same time, I'm concerned that my anxiety is an overreaction. Like the karate feet. I'm worried about my worry. Feel free to sympathize with Shawn; the internal drama has made me a very unpleasant person to live with lately. Which is frustrating because I don't want to be mad about this. I don't want to be the shrewish wife who doesn't let her husband have any fun. But I kind of don't want him to have any fun if his idea of fun could result in him getting smushed.