Stress management

Today I am feeling stressed out. There's pressure coming from various directions and they all seem to be aiming at the most vulnerable parts of my frail, fragile (like fine china) little body so as to deliver the most deadly death blow possible.

It's true. Death blows are painful and traumatic - physically and psychologically. I'm not sure which is worse and the uncertainty stresses me out even more. I like to know what's coming up especially when it concerns my personal well-being.

Please don't bother to count my blessings for me, nor to compare my misfortunes to others. I won't have it. It will do no good. You'd be wasting your time, and mine.

I managed a grand total of 4 hours sleep last night and woke with gritty eyes. These same gritty eyes read an e-mail informing that a VIP was going to be meeting us one-on-one at from 9:00 to 9:45 am. That the e-mail was sent out at 11 pm the previous night mitigated nothing. The tired, gritty eyes then looked at the clock; it said 9:10.

I dropped my coffee mug, and ran for my bicycle, weaved my way through throngs (okay - there were 3 people) of meanderthals who got in my way either in their cars, on their bikes or by just stepping off the pavement to cross the road without looking. I had to use my bike horn (Ah-ooh-gaah!), and the lady honked at looked at me with evil eyes. I glared back with gritty eyes and considered hitting her with my bike lock as I rode by. However, that would have taken up more time that I already didn't have.

I arrived at 9:25, sure that others would take precedence over me, so I would be shuffled to the last 10 minutes of the allotted time. I skidded to a stop in my office and hurriedly tidied up. Then I was told that the VIP was late, so late that the one-on-one meetings probably wouldn't happen. Sure enough, it didn't, the organizers flipped a coin (they did, they really did) to decide who would get the VIP, and we lost (story of my life). Or maybe we won (not the story of my life), I'm still not sure.

That contretemps out of the way, more death blows arrived. The phones rang sans cesse (both my smart little black phone and the office phone). Sometimes at the same time - imagine double body blows at the same time; both kidneys attacked at the same time. The pain, the pain. No wonder I was bowled over today, and my eyes went from gritty to haggard. The phones delivered conflicting information and options that would appear to be at cross purposes. So stressful.

Fortunately there was an easy solution. I wandered down to the local telephone company store where P was helming the desk. He had a full beard on again (must be fall), and I can't decide whether it suits him or not - more uncertainty, more stress - and stroked the demo phones. It's a bit like going to the petting zoo I must say. My heart rate dropped down right away, my mind calmed down and my cortisol levels fell immediately. Fortunately too P was busy with another customer else I might now have a third phone shrieking at me. He did wink at me though as one phone pig might to another.

Other things to report on:

Tossing Salads. I was over at BKKB's palatial palace on Tuesday where we had dinner before BK and I went to see "Step Up to the Plate" a French documentary about Pere Bras passing over the reins of the 3 Michelin stars resto to Fils Bras. One thing that I learnt at BKKB's which I didn't learn at SUTTP - that tossing a salad can be salacious. Who knew. Apparently it's some Louisiana argo, but I'm not quite sure what tossing a salad actually means still. This has nothing to do with BK using a battery operated whisk to prepare the salad dressing.

Wednesday Runs. I think I have started these runs again and hope to get to them more regularly. The last one went well even though I was somewhat late because of last-minute consultations with H. Still, I managed to pad around the circuit in my vibrams with CP who decided to run the extra 2 km with us. Then they went to dinner, while I promptly left my lock behind although the SOCK did pick it up and dropped it off with the front desk. So there's hope that I will get my lock back the next time. It's blue and as long as I can remember the combination, I should be able to get it back. If I can remember the what colour was it again?

Planning. I have to get my head around these various death blows what came my way today, and also to balance them out with other stuff happening. Lo, there's much swirling around in my head. However, many of these swirls will be sorted out one way or another by the end of the month, hopefully earlier. And one way or the other is fine for me. One way is probably finer for me, but either way there will be certainty and I can get on with life.

Must. Remember. In the greater scheme of things, I have backup plans, several options and some time on my side. It's trying to decide which option is best in the given time-frame, then acting upon it. I just don't want any more trains to appear at the end of the tunnel just as I'm about to exit.

Finally. If you're reading this Mr. GA, please rest assured that I will be peeing from my balcony onto yours still. I might even drink beer to ensure the volume of pee is large. This is what you get for calling me 'podgy'.

Vengeance shall be mine yet.