Stress

I think I am addicted to it.


If I admit something, does that make it get better or just become more real?

I had a class Friday morning called Stress Management. And frankly this class pissed me off.

I went into the ridiculousness of this a few days (or was it weeks?) ago. They schedule a class caused Cost and Resources. My first thought was, “yeah, I could teach that class, but whatever. And oh crap it is scheduled to go until 5pm, I need childcare.” So after I scrambled to get childcare lined up… since I work a “cushy” schedule of leaving at 3:00pm daily… they changed the class to Stress Management. I think about the irony. Then a few days later they moved the class to an even WORSE day then the first one – the day my big huge deliverable was scheduled to ship. (Hello IRONY!) I told them straight up, I may not make this class and mustered a joke about “and I am probably the one that needs it”. They expressed the importance at making every single class, even the ones that “may not seem important at the time”.

Sigh.

Unfortunately due to an unforeseen and unfortunate event in the lab, I was able to attend class Friday morning. That’s not to say that there wasn’t any stress with making the decision to attend class versus a teleconference with the client to review the unfortunate event. But I have a great coworker who insisted I go to stress management (suggesting I might need it and commenting on the irony of the timing) and he would run the telecon and promised to take really good notes. (I am still skeptical on the last comment… *I* am the note taker.)

I sat, very impatiently, through Stress Management this morning. I sat there certain, that no one in that class had my level of stress right now and could we just get on with this so I could get back to my office.

And certainly the instructor had no idea how inconvenient this all was since she talked so slowly and PowerPoint animations crawled by at a snail’s pace. Seriously now? I don't need to see a word slide up the page, just put it there.

I know. Ironic, huh? Stress management my...

I am still a bit annoyed by the class because there were no massages. Truly, Stress Management should include massages.

But I am coming around. The telecon with the client went well my coworker has repeatedly assured me. (Haven’t seen any notes yet…) And I walked out of class today with a very important take away message.

“Stress can be addictive.”

Hello, I am Nuclear Mom and I am addicted to stress.

You know that Katy Perry song, “you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no…”

I have been humming this song lately trying to figure out what is going on in my head.

I have been busting my butt daily on my work, barely accomplishing the things that need to be done, letting slip the things that aren’t pounding at my door. But frankly, if I really admit it, loving every minute of it. Ok, the icky meltdown event from Monday really sucked, I didn’t love that AT ALL or the fact finding afterwards. But every regular day. Love it.

On the rare occasion that I have a day where I am able to catch up I sit at my desk and pound stuff out. And then I twiddle my thumbs for 30 minutes. Then I freak out.

Full on freak out.

I don’t have anything to do! I start making phone calls to people, “when are you going to have X data?” “What about that paper you promised me?” “Do you have time for a meeting on this proposal?”

Freak out. Where is my endorphin rush? Where is that edge of panic that I thrive on?

Work right now is a tough place to be for a lot of people. Tough as in they don’t have work to fill their time cards and are fearing layoffs. When I am not pulling my hair out trying to figure out how to get things done, I am paranoid. What is happening? Why aren’t people calling me? Do I need to start looking for work?

“Hot then you’re cold…”

Middle ground. I need it bad.

I need to kick this addiction to stress, the endorphin rush from pounding things out the door feels good. But I fear dropping things. I fear not doing my best. I fear disappointing someone.

I am going to work on this. Really, I am.