While usually I’m a pretty low stress type female individual, these past couple of weeks have been shocking to my delicate system. Why am I so stressed out? I don’t GET stressed out. THAT’S stressing me out. Seriously. I spent way too much time in the 80’s stressing about every tiny thing that eventually I burst a blood vessel and the stress drained right out. (Actually it was two years of therapy that drained it away, but potAtoes potOtoes)
Why am I stressed? Where to begin. First, the economy sucks bigtime a$$ and has resulted in severe layoffs at work. Nobody ever knows who’s next. If you hear your name on the intercom, the joke is to “grab your coat”. Nobody laughs at that.
Stress – MY immediate boss went on vacation for a whole week (rarely ever done) and left me to do HIS job AND MY job. I can’t even describe the word BUSY. . . and in over my head too. Let’s not forget that. Oh yeah, and round-the-clock working. But I did it. Then he turns around and takes the very next Friday off too. Aarrrgghhh! Can I not BUY a break? My only consolation is that I’m going on vacation for four days beginning Thursday. RahRahs, here I come!!
Stress – Flying. From the East coast to the West coast. That’s a long way. I’ve never had any trouble getting on a plane before, so why am I so worried about it all of a sudden? I’ve flown around the world twice with no incidents, back and forth from East to West coasts several times – nothing. I flew a lot there for many years. But NOW I stress? What to pack? What not to pack? God forbid should my shampoo be mistaken for some highly explosive agent. Please forgive me for my vain attempt at a little hygiene.
Stress – Packing. All of a sudden, I’m hearing words like “sweatshirt” and “sweater” and “60 degrees” from my Seattle friends. People, this is AUGUST!! It’s supposed to be HOT. People in Texas know what I’m talking about! They’ve seen triple digit heat for almost two solid months. That’s HOT! I LIKE HOT! I like Summer! Warm weather. Hot will do. But cold? Not so much. Now I don’t know how to pack. Do I wear my cute little sandals and my shorts and t-shirts? Or do I bring a parka? Wait! I don’t OWN a parka. It doesn’t get that cold here EVER.
Stress – Michael Jackson was MURDERED? He died of a drug overdose? Really? Is this news? Are people really surprised by this? It’s official now, sure. But it’s hardly a surprise. Let’s just move on to some real news. I’ve heard about a couple of wars where people are dying everyday. They can report on that.
Stress – I worry about my children. I realize that they are grown men, but Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I still worry. My youngest has vehicle issues that potentially leave him stranded at any given moment of the day. (Chris is frantically working on his Explorer to get it running right to give to him and I’m throwing money at it like a sieve) My oldest, bless his heart, is going to have a heart attack before he’s 30 if he keeps it up. He works two jobs, he never sleeps, he smokes, he drinks, he eats way too much because he’s a “stress eater” and he stresses more than anybody I know. He’s always been wound up like an eight-day clock, always in constant motion like he can’t sit still. He wears me out just watching him. He worries so much about everything from his job to his friends to the price of rice in China. I wish there were a magic wand I could wave over his head to make him RELAX.
What? The nut didn’t fall far from the tree? Is that what you’re thinking? Hmmmmp.
Stress – While in Seattle (my vacation destination), I’m invited to a Thock Party. The story is that it used to be little gift exchange party right before Christmas among friends and everyone would bring socks wrapped in something clever and swap them. Then one day a rogue friend dare brought a thong! That shook things up a bit! The party took on a whole new them, henceforth referred to as the Thock Party, and they moved it up several months because they wanted ME to experience THE famous Thock Party. BUT, what do I bring? How do I wrap it? I like being creative and clever, but how can I be creative and clever with a pair of socks or a thong? I’ve been in my bubble way too long. I feel so at odds, like a boring old lady. And I have to be careful not to chose something too riskque that maybe requires batteries as it might get confenscated at Airport Security as a possible terrorist threat. What if I promise to carry the batteries separately? Think that might work? Still – stressing about WHAT to bring!
Stress – I want to be a fun girl!! But I don’t think I’m very much fun. People laugh at me all the time. But are they laughing AT me or WITH me? I don’t really know. All I DO know is that I feel pretty boring. I work. I go home. I go to my pool. I sleep. I start over the next day. Same thing every single day. This vacation is really throwing me out of my comfort zone. I need to shake off the Old Lady Blues and let my hair down. The RahRah’s of Seattle are about to take me on a ride!
I think they may just be what the doctor ordered to get rid of all this stress. Forget about work for a few days. (We’ll see if THAT can happen) Let my hair down and R.E.L.A.X.! Wheeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!
6 users commented in " Stress and I "
Follow-up comment rss or Leave a TrackbackDonna, you forgot that not only are you flying across the country….But you are taking a little detour to a whole other country!
Should be fun!
It sounds like … you need a vacation! : )
Donna, lean over and put your head between your knees. Deep breaths….in with the good air….out with the bad air….repeat……
You want stress? I’ll give you stress. Last night while preparing for bed I gave a little whimper because I’m advertising staying up all night for four nights and laughing until I pee myself, but we all know the truth that I’m trying to not look at: I need to sleep. I NEED to sleep. Sleep to me is like a shot of whisky to a dying drunk. All day long I look forward to my nighty night. I take a daily pill and I need to take it, and it makes me blessedly sleepy. An hour after I take it? You can talk to me, but no one’s home. I’ve actually spent a month cutting back on it SIMPLY because I figure less of said drug will help me to stay awake for four nights in August. Nope. I’m still sleepy after I take it. So I’m stressing about being a hostess, having a bajillion friends over along with my pal from the other side of the country (shivering because it’s only 80 degrees), and having to leave everyone to go climb into bed for my blessed sleep of the damned. I got shit for it in Vegas, and I anticipate getting shit for it in my own home too. Of course in Vegas I was a mental wreck, so there’s that too. (Marriage failing, mother recently disowning me, losing my brand new fancy cell phone within a minute of arriving in town…you know, nothing huge or anything.)
Then there’s my house, that looks like the aftermath of Hiroshima. There’s Rosemary poo on the far side floor of my bed because I’ll be damned if I’ll pick it up–she’s Ben’s damn dog. Nevermind he’s been gone for a week and a half. Nevermind that. It’s now fossilized and I realize, “OK. Guess I need to pick that up before Donna steps on it and runs for the airport screaming.” It’s still there. I cleaned off my table for my stamping party over a week ago, and it’s already buried again by junk mail and bills, my jackets, my lunch sack, William’s orientation crap, all my shoes kicked off under it, and God only knows what else. At least I know there’s no fossilized poo on there.
The thock party? I always just give socks….I’m uber boring. And I throw them in a gift bag and unceremoniously dump it under the tree and it’s so boring it’s usually the last thing picked. I am not clever or creative. At all. There are enough other people who are, so they offset my boringness. And I haven’t even thought about shopping for it yet, so if you want, we could even do that out here when you come. It’s about the last thing on my mind, actually. And it should be the last thing on yours too. You are here simply to enjoy yourself, not worry about having a creatively wrapped dumb gift that someone will be too drunk to appreciate anyway! So stop it.
Tomorrow will be 85 degrees in Seattle, so you will step off the plane into lovliness. It’s the hottest day while you’re here, actually. Friday may be the worst day, but still…74 with a slight chance of drizzle. The rest of the days will be mid to upper seventies. I’ll just prop you up next to Deb and the two of you can cry in your margaritas about wanting hot hot hot weather and I’ll sit back and make fun of you two. How’s that? The mornings are in the fifties, so they’re chilly and I imagine you’ll think you’re in Siberia, but I promise to keep you bundled up inside so you won’t notice. If we go somewhere in the morning, I’ll turn the car on, open up the passenger door, go inside, cover you in a quilt, and bundle you out the door and into the car so that you won’t be touched by chilliness.
Now. Stop stressing! Leave that to me, because I’m much better at it than you. I’m a professional. And by the way, if I can fly across an entire ocean (ok, ok…half an ocean–but it was DEEP and there were sharks!) then you can fly across a tiny country, Right? Right. And what Cindy said….you will be visiting two countries on your little trip, all for the price of one! How about that! In fact, you may even be involved in a confrontation with the border patrol while Demery floors her minivan through the barricade and I hang out the window with my tommy gun yelling, “YOU’LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE, BASTARDS!!!” Imagine all the stories you’ll go home with!
**Disclaimer….I don’t even know what a tommy gun is, let alone own one, in case anyone feels the need to report me as an international terrorist. (I’m Danish, for the love of God.)Thank you, and have a lovely day.**
Anyhoo……I love you, and I promise to be the best hostess ever, and you will have so much fun you’ll pee yourself daily. Bring Depends.
ONE MORE DAY!!!!!
And keep in mind: Martha in a latex dress!!!
I am scared of Martha and the latex dress. And Donna, if Martha says she is wearing a latex dress – SHE WILL BE. She does not joke around like that. And if you want a present that is not a thong or a sock – watch the bag she brings in. It is surely to be filled with naughtiness.
You know what I have bought before? Good socks. Deb is a hiker, she needs good socks. I am practical, I like good socks. If I bring something like that then there is a chance one of us are going home with something we can actuall wear! (since it is a game where you steal from each other). I have already bought my present and it is not socks or a thong. So there.
NO STRESSING!!!!!!!!!!!! I was at Mo’s last night laughing hard for the first time in a long time. (she has a neighbor that sounds like a Duck or Goose honking when he blows his nose – AND YOU CAN HEAR IT IN HER HOUSE FROM HIS HOUSE!) there is also a nice single man and I said she should invite him over for dinner Thursday because maybe you’d fall madly in love with him and move here. That sent us into hysterical laughter trying to picture the 2 of you together.
I can’t wait to see you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh MAN!!!! You have GOT to get to a computer and give me some Donna perspective of that trip. I am ALMOST jealous, but since it’s YOU I’m too happy to waste energy on envy. I do still wish I could be there. Love you all!!!!! R
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