Since returning from vacation, I've had one clear goal in mind: don't let myself get stressed out again.I had just spent a week drinking and smoking and fucking around like a total jackass, without having to even pretend to be serious even once, and it did me a world of good. My shoulders didn't hurt, my mind was clear, and things just seemed a hell of a lot brighter.
Then, I returned to the office on Tuesday morning, and right away, I was falling back into old habits. I had also decided to try and quit my morning cup of coffee (a feat that has been even more difficult than quitting my pack-a-day habit when I returned from France), which made things even tougher.
I came home Tuesday night and had a serious talk with myself, which is something I rarely do. It's not exactly easy to pinpoint why I get so stressed out, but it's safe to say that I really don't worry much about the shit that normal people worry themselves about.
It'd be totally normal for me to worry about the fact that I don 't have a ton of money, or that someone would have to have ass-backwards standards in order to find me attractive, or that my job is so intense, or that most of my friends are embarrassed to be seen in public with me, or that I'm really not getting any younger. However, strangely enough, those things don't keep me awake at night.
The truth is, I do think too much, but the thoughts usually lie within these categories:
-If you are wearing something without belt loops, then what do you do with the loose end of the belt when it's all done up?
-Kelly Clarkson should be so fucking grateful that Ghostface mentioned her in that one jam.
-Scrappy Doo was a total dick (seriously, worst cartoon sidekick ever).
-Outfits: am I matching too much or not enough?
-Has Dilla ever produced something that I wasn't fond of?
-If I ever got up the balls to cut my own hair, it would probably look okay.
Maybe it's better that I don't figure out any of the sources of my stress, because I'm starting to think that most of it was imaginary anyway.
From here on out, I'm going to deprive myself of self-deprivation (which means as much coffee as I want), and that vacation feeling should last forever (or at least until winter).
Wish me luck!
~sarah p.
Then, I returned to the office on Tuesday morning, and right away, I was falling back into old habits. I had also decided to try and quit my morning cup of coffee (a feat that has been even more difficult than quitting my pack-a-day habit when I returned from France), which made things even tougher.
I came home Tuesday night and had a serious talk with myself, which is something I rarely do. It's not exactly easy to pinpoint why I get so stressed out, but it's safe to say that I really don't worry much about the shit that normal people worry themselves about.
It'd be totally normal for me to worry about the fact that I don 't have a ton of money, or that someone would have to have ass-backwards standards in order to find me attractive, or that my job is so intense, or that most of my friends are embarrassed to be seen in public with me, or that I'm really not getting any younger. However, strangely enough, those things don't keep me awake at night.
The truth is, I do think too much, but the thoughts usually lie within these categories:
-If you are wearing something without belt loops, then what do you do with the loose end of the belt when it's all done up?
-Kelly Clarkson should be so fucking grateful that Ghostface mentioned her in that one jam.
-Scrappy Doo was a total dick (seriously, worst cartoon sidekick ever).
-Outfits: am I matching too much or not enough?
-Has Dilla ever produced something that I wasn't fond of?
-If I ever got up the balls to cut my own hair, it would probably look okay.
Maybe it's better that I don't figure out any of the sources of my stress, because I'm starting to think that most of it was imaginary anyway.
From here on out, I'm going to deprive myself of self-deprivation (which means as much coffee as I want), and that vacation feeling should last forever (or at least until winter).
Wish me luck!
~sarah p.
No comments:
Post a Comment