Stress is….

Crouching Woman

Stress is Hell!

Or at least it is part of the reason I’ve been in Hell for the last few days. Trapped in my own version of one of the circles – the one reserved for those who’ve failed.

I know. Get over it.

I didn’t fail. I am simply am a victim of circumstance. Thank you Billy Joel!

Somehow that doesn’t fly for me either. I like the ‘get over it part’. I had a plan. Then situation with my unemployment insurance changed. No one’s fault, it simply is. I need to ramp things up and instead I spent the weekend mired in my own self doubt.

A friend came over and broke my stretch of solitude. He’s one of those overachievers I tend to befriend, or date. We don’t date. He has a new business venture that’s been in the works for over a year. They went live around October with the office and website. He works his ass off and makes me feel like a sniveling whiny wimp. He came over between working with his web designer and hitting a birthday party – on Sunday.

My financial woes have put me on edge. For the most part because it is something I pride myself on doing money well. Not because I have a lot of it, but because I am good at living within my means. Saving when I have money and cutting my spending when I have less. The problem is, there isn’t much left to cut.

This also came on the heels of my biggest writing success to date.  

The universe is a cruel place.    

I was in the middle of re-watching the first season of the new Doctor Who when my friend arrived. Did I mention I’m a sniveling whiny wimp? All wound up in my personal pity party. That is the downside of writing or doing any type of business at home. You are home. I can go days without going outside or talking to another person face-to-face. Granted 90% of the time I prefer this but this morning I realized being alone without any demands on my time or commitments is not an optimal state. We need connection to the outside world. To people who like us, maybe even love us a little, and who care about us.   

I love Minerva, my cat, but she isn’t enough to get me out of the house. Or apparently to get me writing.

So, as I said. I need to get over it. Get up, do my thing, and keep moving forward. Which is what I did this morning. Granted a little later than I planned but the time change is always difficult. 11 pm felt like 10 pm and I wanted to watch just one more episode, I also wanted to get up at 6 am, as you can imagine those two ‘wants’ were mutually exclusive.

But I’m up, Yoga’d, and caffeinated and writing.  

And to quote Scarlett O’Hara yet again, “Tomorrow is another day!”

~ Tess

PS It is amazing how cathartic writing this was. Not all better, but no longer in the depths of despair


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