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Stress. . . oh how I love thee
by Felicity Bloomfield posted on 2008-02-28 17:46 last modified 2008-02-28 17:46

To fully encapsulate my mood, I should writelikethis.

But it's annoying.

A moment of history: I've spent the last two years tackling an anxiety disorder, and have only just wrestled it to the ground. I owe my parents $11,000, which is roughly what I earn in a good year (how did I even SPEND that much in two years, I wonder).

A moment of recent history:

I have jobs! Delicious jobs! Jobs that start in the mid to late afternoon, four days a week! (Plus my little nephew on Sundays). It's terribly exciting, and I actually, honestly love my work. Every bit of it. And I'm even good at it (and experienced, but I had to avoid it for a while coz of anxiety).

So:

I have money! Ooh, fine golden showers of money! *maniacal laughter ensues here*

The boost to my confidence is incredible. Suddenly I'm saying yes to more work (more difficult work - though still excellent). Suddenly I'm moving out of the parent's granny flat (to someplace cheaper, so I can pay OFF debt, at least a little). Suddenly....I can't think of a third thing, but you get the drift.

Well, suddenly I have less time. And I love it! But I love it in a manner that a stalker loves their prey...obsessively, unhealthily. I'm so high on my success + new stress that I can't sleep through the night, can't let go of ANYTHING (the diet I'm on, my usual 20 hours of writing a week, etc).

And I feel fantastic. (Manic, I believe, is the term.) A part of me has learnt a hard lesson over the last two years. That lesson is: STOP. SLOW DOWN. BREATHE.

I am of course ignoring it. Stress feels wonderful. It really does. I'm flying high, and I just hope I don't crash too hard.

This weekend I plan to:

lose half a kilo

write for 20 hours (I'm doing extra hoursĀ in orderĀ that last year adds up to 1000 hours total)

babysit my nephew

find a new place to live

Wish me luck. Right now it's 2am, and I'm doing an hour of writing before I go to bed (that hour is the last official hour for this week, making the next twenty a bonus). My shoulders ache from typing, and my eyes are blurring already. It's gonna be great.

Fel

original image by pixtecaCourtesy of Creative Commons version 2.0

report

Posted by Felicity Bloomfield at 2008-03-01 01:36
I did lose half a kilo (if you count monday as part of the weekend). I wrote for 8 hours - and 2 the next weekend. So not 20, but 10. I did babysit my nephew. And I not only found a place to live, but moved into it. On the sunday. So you could call it a productive weekend. (I also responded to a frantic midnight SMS which fortunately turned out not to be nearly as dire as it seemed.)

This entry comes after 'slugs and drugs', and is more or less continued (from this very moment) in 'Doctor Auntie Vibewire'.
Nevermind; or, The Case of the Phantom Trousers
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Nevermind; or, The Case of the Phantom Trousers:
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