Skeletons in My Mental Closet,AKA, "Why I'm a Bonehead"

I lovety-love-love the Dilbert blog. Never before have I seen a famous person feel so free to just blurt it all out, from ridiculous fears to wild-eyed theories about the universe. Awesome!

Today he talked about things he worries about -- not the big things that everyone else worries about and that someone else is probably going to handle -- the other stuff. His personal fears are here; mine are below.

I worry:

1. That I will get pregnant again and have a pregnancy as sick and miserable and worried as the last one.
2. That I will get pregnant again and I'll never be able to retire and just be me, instead of being someone's mommy. Love 'em, but there are moments when I don't want to hear a retching child's knock on my bedroom door at midnight or the afternoon stairstep stompings of an oppressed teen retiring to her room in high dudgeon.
3. That I won't get pregnant again (unlikely at my age and low-low-low sexual activity level), and I'll never have a son. I love my daughters intensely but would like to know what it's like to have a little boy, too.
4. That my older daughter will get pregnant as a teen, like so many of her cousins on her dad's side of the family did (as well as her dad's stepdaughters). We'd cope, but she doesn't need that kind of distraction; she has concentration problems in school and in life as it is.
5. That my younger daughter will never quit being a neurotic worrywart. I love her sweet personality but worry that my nutty mother's presence in her live has made my girl a fearful people-pleaser. Thank goodness for older sis, who frequently annoys little sis enough to piss her off right into the hotheaded stratosphere of a Z-snappin' attitude. Maybe she'll balance out OK.
6. That my mentally unstable mother, who lives with us, will wear me out by living another 10 years. Yes, I know it's wrong to pray for someone's death, particularly when the prayer is trembling on the doorstep of atheism. But still, somedays ...
7. That I'll never write a novel.
8. That I'll write a book, and it will excel only in suckitude.
9. That my husband will never make any "real" money.
10. That he'll someday get tired of my shit and just leave me.
11. That people are always going to depend on me and I will always have to be the strong one.
12. That I'll never be secure enough to quit worrying about whether I'm likeable. Guess the littlest girl in the house doesn't get her people-pleasing ways just from her granny.

That's enough for now, I think.