Stress and the Modern Adult

stress: n (stres)
-physical, mental, or emotional strain or tension
-a situation, occurrence, or factor causing this

excerpted from Webster's

My $0.02 worth

OK, so what does it take to deal with stress in these oh so stressful times we find ourselves encumbered by? Why does stress seem to enter our lives on a seemingly moment by moment occasion? What is it that makes us think that these occurences are so stressful anyway? Is it the fact that life, as it turns out, is NOT the proverbial bowl of cherries? Is that what ticks us off about stress? Is it invasion of our solitude and interruption of lifestyle? Is stress simply a misunderstanding of a given situation with frustration and ensuing emotions the method of dealing with it? Maybe it's a way of handling the diabolical self loathing we have for lack of time management which results in unfinished business. Or perhaps it is just a way of allowing us to get angry at the things we are not SUPPOSED to get angry at. Whatever stress is and how it manifests itself is different for everyone, that's a given.

On a personal level, I can understand being stressed if you are unsure of the outcome of certain things like, say, waiting to discover whether you are or are not going to get the death penalty. Now THAT would be stressful. I observe those around me and realize that stress does indeed come in all shapes, sizes and magnitudes. But.......why? Why worry about something you can't change? Most of all why worry and get "stressed" about those events which have no long term bearing on that which, again, we cannot change. If stress is leading to depression and forcing oneself to hide under the blankets then there must have certainly been events which led up to the cowering beneath a pillow which, by the way, really offers no protection at all from the stress gremlins. The prelude to most situations involving stress seems to be the mismanagement of time, resources and most of all planning. Lets say the report I had to get out to that important client is going to be late. Why is it going to be late? Because I wasn't given enough time to colour in the pie charts? BAH! I should have condensed the part extolling my personal virtues and got right to work to save some time, oh...and instead of interrupting my spreadsheet production I should have taken the garbage out last night while I was watching the least stressed cartoon family on television, Homer and his crew. If we stick to the facts we can avoid stress. In my humble opinion, stress is also compounded by emotion. I know what some of you are thinking but no, stress is not an emotion, neither is stressed. Emotion gets in the way of seeing things clearly and is a cause of, well.....stress. Anger clouds the ability to hear and see things for what they really are. Sorrow through self pity masks the fact that we have to get on with what has to be done. As the sporting giant says "Just Do It". Seems reasonable. There will be plenty of time for emotion when a situation is resolved, the great thing is that the emotions after the fact are 'feel good' emotions. I am not saying that emotions are a bad thing, I just think that they have their place and using them wisely helps us to avoid compounding stressful situations.

I like to fish, ride motorized vehicles of varying sorts, fix stuff even if it doesn't really need fixing, watch a little TV, ummmmmmmm well, I could go on but you get the picture. The key words there are "I like". How often does stress get in the way of doing the things we LIKE to do? Way too often in my opinion. The lawn mower won't get fixed any faster if I have to retrieve the hammer from the roof of the house where I threw it due to anger from stress. I am sure the dust bunnies under the bed are not going to eat my mattress while we are away for the weekend so why vacuum the carpet while everyone else is sitting in the car in 90 degree heat? Hey, the neighbour is going to collect the newspaper, the doors are locked lets go do something we LIKE to do. Don't get stressed and try to justify it by doing something we don't like to do. Feeling good doesn't have to be payment for feeling stressed. Oops! Stress is not an emotion remember?

I am rambling now but I am not going to stress about it. I will just do something about it then go somewhere and feel good, doing something I like.

In the immortal words of author Richard Carlson:

Don't sweat the small stuff!

Lonely Victim Seeks Allies

OK.....Sounds more like a personal ad than anything, but it's not. It is a desperate cry for help in the world of long lost spouses everywhere. Spouses who have been cast aside for the world of....you guessed it.......the "B" word. BLOGGING!!!. It is painfully evident to my wife that I am not a blogger in the true sense of the word. I don't wake up in the middle of the night with an idea for my blog that just has to be written.......NOW!!! I realized a few days ago that the world of blogging can be, and is an addiction. The startling fact came when I approached, carefully I might add in fear of the dreaded response, my wife to try and stir some reaction. I suggested that she may want to call the F.D. because her beloved Mustang was on fire. Victim of the burning oil on the stove which had spread to the dusty vacuum cleaner beside the counter full of dishes over the dishwasher which had been dirty for almost three days. Upon throwing the vacuum out the door and extinguishing the french fries and deep fried kraft dinner, the staple foods of any blog spouse, I returned my attention to the dusty, flame engulfed vacuum igniting the white Mustang now glowing a beautiful orange and green colour due to the melting ground effects kit emitting styrene fumes and killing the cat. I quickly ran for the hose to keep the flames at bay but alas it was nowhere to be found. Upon further investigation It was discovered lying in the long dead garden exactly where it had been abandoned for the fall season of posting holiday wishes to every blogger within 10,000 miles of us. Ahhhhhhhhh....water and melting plastic, not such a good combination. The water seemed to carry the 50,000 degree styrene vapour firestorm ever closer to the house and toward the still smouldering fries and K.D. lying dangerously close to the bar-b-q tank, preheating it for the inevitable disaster imennently inducing the ultimate demise of our dwelling. WATER! WATER! As much as possible to save our blood, sweat and tear laden home from impending doom. RUN, GET THE HOSE, TURN IT ON, COOL THE TANK....................nothing, hmmm...was working. Seems the water bill is still lying peacefully beside her keyboard as it has been all fall (see above). Why today? Seems like the volunteer fire department is taking forever to arrive. They must be blogging. Hmmm......sand....yes, sand. Off to the garden I dash looking along the way for the utensils I will need to save our beautiful abode. Shovel, yes shovel.......but where? Oh, it dawns on me that the shovel is up the driveway where my sweet blogaholic had left it last winter when digging out her car from the snow only because she had to go to the store for paper to print some of the more important posts, 500 sheets and three ink cartridges later she managed to find her way through the weather back to her keyboard. The shovel.....FOUND IT! Pails.....oh yeah in the laundry room full of clothes and dust bunnies from the seldom used dryer. Two should be enough. Past the office I dash stopping briefly to say hello and express a seldom acknowledged "I love you". Into the laundry room and back out the door. Sand......garden......flames...gotta move......faster, faster, push the limits of endurance. Garden.......sand......pails. Whew...well on the way to eliminating the threat now ominously close to the propane. The river of charred black ooze from the once pristine convertible inching it's way toward certain mass destruction. Distributing the sand on the flames now licking at the sides of the tank was somewhat anti-climatic after the adventure just experienced, but the firefighters, who had to go out for printer paper anyway, stopped by to ensure their blogmate was well and congratulate me on taking the situation in hand and resolving it in a timely fashion. They bid me adieu in a curt and quick fashion and advised me they would see me online later, whatever that means. I venture inside the smoke filled kitchen, around the dust pile where the vacuum once lay, through the pile of coats and shoes in the front hall and into the coveted office space to my cast aside overturned desk chair (seems there is never enough room for blogging). Wet feet, sand in my hair, soot coated clothing, the stench of melted plastic in my burned nostrils, I sit down and express my love and adoration for my beautiful wife. She greets me with her loving, admiring grunts and I explain what has transpired to which I get the anticipated response............Just another 10 minutes honey.




RIP 2006 BLOG SPOUSES

Thank you for listening, I gotta go. Laundry to do.

Doug




Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters in this story bear no similarity to any persons living or dead. Or do they?


Disclaimer2: I love my wife. ( I know she will find this eventually)