Posts Tagged ‘stress’

Digging a deeper hole

This past few months has brought about multiple life changes. Nothing dramatic like being bitten by a tse-tse fly or having all my hair turn gray (no, wait, that already happened) but major and overwhelming stress. Work, weather, and life in general have all combined into one massive roiling ball of….stress.

Which brought out a lovely thing called writer’s block. Technically, I don’t believe much in writer’s block, I believe however, a person can become so stressed that they can’t “imagine” anymore. Can’t go to their happy place and invent stories.

And it’s not a fun place.

So, I’m on the attack. How? By watching Disney and Pixar movies. By reading my absolute favorite authors (Kristan Higgins, Janet Evanovich and Susan Elizabeth Phillips)(Hurry up with your new release Nora!) and diving into their characters. My writing craft books have been set aside while I read Vanity Fair. I make sure I pet each cat every day. (Ok, except for last night when Bear brought a live mouse in the house)

I’m trying to beat stress back with humor.

Will I win the battle?

You bet. Rawr.




I live a high stress lifestyle. I manage a restaurant, I write, I design websites and design jewelry. I’m not tooting my own horn; I’m just pointing out the opportunity for stressful situations pops up fairly consistently in my life.

Like when the lady cursed me because we didn’t carry the right kind of salad dressing.

When the cat ran off with one of the earrings I’d just sold.

When the guy from Texas wants his logo moved. No, move that to the left. No, down a little. No….

It gets a little stressful.

What do I do when the stress levels peak? Admittedly, nothing takes the edge off like a little chocolate and Jack Daniels. But man cannot live by chocolate and JD alone. (Ok, technically I might try that sometime just to prove the point.) (And I hope you realize I’m joking.) (Mostly)


So when I’ve JUST HAD IT!!! I look for some comedy relief. How?

By watching a funny movie –

Young Frankenstein :
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [to Igor] Now that brain that you gave me. Was it Hans Delbruck’s?
Igor: [pause, then] No.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Ah! Very good. Would you mind telling me whose brain I DID put in?
Igor: Then you won’t be angry?
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: I will NOT be angry.
Igor: Abby Someone.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [pause, then] Abby Someone. Abby who?
Igor: Abby Normal.

And I laugh hysterically every time.

Stress level goes from 100 down to 88.

If watching Young Frankenstein with Orville Redenbacher’s Pour-Over Movie Theater Popcorn? It will drop to 72.

Cats :
My cats are insane. When I come home from work, and pull into the lane, the cats are waiting. Lying in the driveway. We’ll creep in a few feet, and Spook (he’s the worst one for it) will walk a few feet forward, then sit. He looks at the sky, the stars, the moon. As if he has no idea there’s a ¾ ton truck sitting behind him with the engine idling. Hubby has to get out of the truck, cursing the entire way, and pick up the cat, dragging it to the front door. I can hear him lecturing the cat in his English accent, and I just giggle. The other night, three cats played the game. Picture my husband trying to gather all three cats pretending to be sound asleep in front of the truck?

Stress level drops to 57.

Books are always a great de-compressor.

Kristan Higgins All I Ever Wanted –
The latest book currently on my nightstand. It’s perfect. I admire the writing, the humor, the wit. I giggle about the prosthetic, the dog, the funeral parlor. It’s so well written I don’t want to put it down, I don’t want it to end. On the other hand, I can’t wait to pick up the next in my TBR pile – Christie Ridgway’s Crush on You.

Stress level drops to 41.

Munchies –

Gardettos –
Nectar of the gods. Just the right amount of salt and crunch. Now if they only made it in a resealable bag. This darn humidity.

Stress level drops to 27.

Email/Facebook/Texting –
A little last flurry of venting, name calling, day sharing, plan making, plot devising, moaning, wardrobe tips and dirty jokes are the final call of the day. (thanks jen!)

Stress level drops to 12.

Lights out.

Sweet dreams, carrie.


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