I hate stress.
The heaviness of it on my shoulders. The tightness of it in my gut. The tossing, turning sleep and scary nightmares. The immense feeling of impending failure. The oogy-ness of it that just makes me feel like everything about me is not good enough. Stress. I hate it.
The really crappy thing is when this stress is about work stuff. It's just not worth it to feel this kind of stress over a little job. In the scope of life, and who I am, work is nothing. Yet here I am, dreading to head out and go to the office.
When I feel stressed about work I know something is not right. I must be lacking in some essential ability: the ability to deal, to be tough skinned, to problem-solve, to self-relax, to move on, to get it done. I must be focusing on the wrong thing? Otherwise I wouldn't have this stress. I can only do my best! The key is when I ask myself: am I doing my best?
I don't know the answer to that question. I guess that's why I feel this way.
Thank God it's Friday.
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