The Classics Revisited: Part 3
Stress: Kill it Before it Multiplies! (From 01/13/05)School started again last week. I'm already learning a lot this term, especially about stress. One thing I've observed about it:
Stress multiplies.
For instance, say the majority of your time is taken up by a full time job and being a full time student. The remaining precious particles of your time are parceled out to secondary priorities (no charge for all that alliteration, by the way) such as taking baths, reading a scripture or two, tickling your daughter, saying a quick prayer in the shower, grabbing a bite to eat, attending a church service, etc. This leaves little time for hanging out with your friends, so you’re forced to communicate through the phone or via e-mail:
“Hi! Just letting you know I'm still alive! I'll be back with a similar status report next week! Bye!”
Then imagine that the first week of school is made up of only three days rather than the normal seven offered by all respectable weeks. However, you are still assigned a full week's worth of assignments. The first thing to get lost in the shuffle is your prayer life, even as you mutter apologies to God on the way to work. The second thing that goes is your sleep, and the third thing is your looks – a ghostly pallor and a greasy granny knot do not a hot blogger make.
You’re relieved that Dimples -– I mean, your best friend who is also a guy -– is too busy himself to hang out with you. Your daughter refers to you as “that girl who lives across the hall.” She comes in every now and pats your head sympathetically. The floor in your room disappeared shortly after you decided you’d rather sleep than hang up your clothes. It’s 6 a.m. The assignment is due in a few hours. You’re almost done with it, and the bad news is that your instructor will probably hate it even though you went without food, a bath and a night's worth of sleep to complete it. That's when the stress begins to multiply. Exponentially.
Time contracts when you’re stressed. You find that out three hours of sleep feels like fifteen minutes. Now you’re late for work and because you've let so your room get so messy, you can't remember where you put your contacts. It's okay that you can't see to drive, however, because you can't find your keys either. The latter fact is particularly disturbing because you lost your real set a long time ago and have been relying on your spare ever since.
The fact that you're running late for work is made a little more difficult by not being able to remove your pajama pants. You were so tired the night before, remember, that you accidentally tied the drawstring into double knot instead of a bow, and now they won't come off because they're not made of stretchy material. You consider cutting the drawstring, but that would ruin them, and this is your favorite pair. Extra baggy.
So you finally find the keys -- who threw them under your bed? -- and fish out a new set of contacts while thanking heaven someone invented disposables. You show up at work two hours late, greasy granny knot firmly in place, and sneak in the back door hoping no one will see you in your pajama pants. You run into your office praying that Blonde Moment -- I mean, your co-worker -- can release you from your flannel prison. The whole office finds out about it because Blonde Moment – I mean, your co-worker –- has a big mouth. They don't let you live it down. Your boss double dog dares you to wear the pajama pants all day long sometime in the future. You're tempted because you’d rather sleep in for a few more minutes than take the time to pick out an outfit in the morning.
You’re so tired you can’t think of a way to end your blog entry. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzleep deprivation causes you to fall asleep at odd moments. In between moments of clarity and befuddlement, you say a prayer of thanks that you have this one small outletzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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