Tag Archives: stress

I Stress, But I Post

The question is: do I have time for a Monstrous Monday post early this Tuesday morning (but not as early as I had hoped)?  Yes, yes, I have been promising and promising to make real blog posts.  You didn’t think I meant every day, did you? (Oh, don’t say YOU did; you knew I didn’t and you’re just happy to shame me now that I haven’t!) (Did that make sense?  I really have had coffee this morning.)

Yes, this was the mug I used. It IS Halloween-time, isn’t it?

I am feeling perhaps more stressed these days than my life events justify.  I can’t help how I feel, but I am trying to get my stuff done and not run around waving my arms and making b-b-b-b noises (I would scream, but my throat is so sore from my allergies, it hurts) as I feel inclined to do.

Most people would find this stressful.

A lot of people are quite creeped out by spiders.  I, on the other hand, am not.  It is interesting to me how I can be squeamish and/or screamy about some things and not at all about others.  I shan’t tell you my phobias, in case local readers see this and want to torment me.

You see how little I fear spiders.

Can you tell that’s a spider on my hat?  I wore it on Kentucky Derby Day one year, and to a tea party last year.  It is one of my favorite garage sale purchases.

And now I am over 200 words.  Score!  Still feeling stressed?  Yes!  But that’s not your problem.  Do you have any problems?  If so, I am here to listen.  It will take my mind off mine.

 

Who Could Stress Over Throwback Monsters?

I thought I would do a Throwback Thursday Post.

Is 1922 far back enough?

Or maybe a Mid-Week Monsters Post.  I usually do those on Wednesday, the actual middle of the week, but I would think Thursday or Tuesday would be acceptable.  This, of course, is title character from Nosferatu, one of my favorite movies.

As you may have guessed, I ain’t got much tonight.  Today I let myself feel so stressed, I actually made myself sick.  Not in the sense if, “You make me sick!” I had physical symptoms.  What the hell, me?  I am feeling better now, from the symptoms and the stress.

Is that really how you spell symptoms? It doesn’t look right.  Yes, it is correct.  I just looked it up in the dictionary: an actual book I have had for years.  It was a gift from a friend, and I treasure it.

This is what I don’t got right now.

I thought it was time for another picture.  This is The Brain from the Planet Arous. Regular readers know I like to share his picture when I am feeling particularly brainless.  Perhaps I become redundant.  You’ll have that when you are brainless.

Sometimes you just have to put on the pointy hat and remind them who they are dealing with.

I close with the Wicked Witch of the West from, of course, The Wizard of Oz. At work, when I pick up a broom I often refer to it as my method of transportation.  It is not an original joke, but it usually gets a laugh.

I am going to count this post as a Throwback Thursday Post as well as a Mid-Week Monsters Post, because all my monsters are from old movies.  There is nothing wrong with being old.  I myself am old enough to know better, although I do not often act on the knowledge.

 

Monsters, Murder and Memories at Mid-Week

I can call this a Blogger’s Sick Day or a Blogger’s Stress Day (I think that might be a new one), but I am making yet another post about not making a decent blog post.  Some may find it frustrating that I am sharing no details about my sickness or stress.  Others will be happy to be spared the sordid details.  I always say explanations are tiresome.

Unrelated but amusing photo.

I throw in a picture to pep things up.  I had thought to make this a Mid-Week Monsters Post, so here we are.

The fact is that even when undergoing great personal trauma (accuse me of overdramatizing if you like), I cling to my image of myself as a writer.  I have not traditionally experienced great success in writing about what bothers me.  What often happens is that as I write, I think, “Wow, I am really justified in feeling upset!”  And I get even more upset.  Go figure.

We have always been a lovely couple.

I have experienced greater success in distracting myself from my problems, if not with monsters, then with memories.  The picture shows my husband Steven and I in Fabulous and Fatal, a murder mystery we presented to benefit the Herkimer County Historical Society.

OK, that got me over 200 words.  I’ll call it a blog post and hope for a better one tomorrow.

 

I Stress, But I Blog

Today is Tired Tuesday but it may as well be a Blogger’s Sick Day.  I left work after four hours due to a headache.  A nap helped a little,  but I am under stress.  Oh, get over yourself, me, we all have problems!  And so I try to at least make a blog post.

And nothing is coming.  I looked in my Media Library for a timely graphic but can find none.  What, I ask, is a blogger to do?

A depiction of how I feel.

This is  not what I was looking for,  but I find it appropriate.  I feel like a blob, oozy and a little disgusting, although I do try not to be as clingy.  People hate that and it never works.

No, I do not think I look like this.

No, this is me, a lost soul.  Now I really sound like I’m feeling sorry for myself.  I hope I am not.  But I need to find a way of dealing with all my stress.  There is no reason to burden you lovely people with it.

An oldie but a goodie.

I leave with a Tuesday meme.  The week progresses.  So will I, but right now I need a little more sleep.

 

Burning Questions on Monstrous Monday

Am I no longer a daily blogger or am I just going through a bad patch? If I return to posting daily will I truly be a daily blogger, considering the number of missed posts? Will I ever return to making a blog post daily? These are the burning questions that plague me on this Monstrous Monday.

I’m not loving the rest of the days either right now.

There is no point in iterating the various points of stress currently monsterizing my life (I’ll be damned: iterating and monsterizing are both words, according to autocorrect. I thought iterating was like a lost positive: you know, you can reiterate something, but nobody ever iterates anything. Monsterizing, I thought I just made up) (but I digress).

Nosferatu stands up to his problems.

I throw in Nosferatu just because he is my favorite. You may have guessed by now (if anybody is still reading) that I got nuthin’. In my defense, I finished and emailed my article to Mohawk Valley Living magazine. In my detriment, I don’t know if it was a very good article. Perhaps I am not the best judge of these things.

Totally me.

I close with a kind of a self portrait. OK, it’s not really me, but it is how I often feel lately. I believe I am not alone.

What I am is over 200 words. I call that a blog post. Can I do it again tomorrow? Can I make a better post? More burning questions to ponder.

Not Really a Post

So I went to bed on Sunday without making a blog post and I don’t feel up to making one this morning. I’m just going to come out and say it: I am depressed and under stress, and blog posts may become sporadic for a while.

Hey, “depressed” and “stressed” rhyme. Maybe I could make this a poetry blog.

To start with I was quite depressed

And then I got a little stressed

It’s hard to write

When under blight

As life becomes more messed.

That was the best I could come up with prior to 5 a.m. But it will have to do.

Words Are Not Forthcoming

I thought of that title earlier, when I was working on a letter to a friend.  I feel it is quite pathetic to be unable even to write a letter.

Eventually I turned to a new page in my notebook (yes, a spiral-bound paper notebook with a pen) and actually wrote something.  One word followed another and I soon had almost a whole page, front and back.  Was it any good?  I can’t tell.  What I can tell is that I need to get a better grip on this novel I am allegedly writing.

Full disclosure:  I am having difficulty in maintaining my grip at all these days.  Yesterday at work I spent a good part of the day telling people I was at the end of my rope.  A poster back in the ’70’s (it may have been an Argus poster, remember those?) said that if you get to the end of your rope, you should tie a knot and hang on.  I think you should swing.  It is fun to swing on a rope.  Or, if you are feeling vindictive, you could make a noose and go after whoever drove you to the end of the rope.  Just to threaten!  I am not recommending murder!

Well, that brings me over 200 words.  I’m going to call it Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.  I am still working on the post about my Virtual Boilermaker 15K.  I trust eventually words will be forthcoming.

 

Have I the Heart for a Tired Tuesday Post?

OK, second attempt at making Tuesday’s blog post on Tuesday (whatever my WordPress timestamp may say).  I logged on earlier but felt overwhelmingly sad.  The moment seems to have passed.

As you may have guessed,  I did not follow yesterday’s note to self and write my blog post while on breaks at work.  I had the notebook out (the spiral bound paper kind by the way), but nothing doing.  I did some writing eventually, but nothing to share yet.  Never mind, I will make a Tired Tuesday post.

At the risk of upsetting the HIPAA police, I mention that I went to the cardiologist this morning for a stress test.  I was quite stressed by the time I arrived.  Driving in Utica, NY can do that to anyone, but I get especially uptight when I am worried about getting somewhere on time.  And it is stressful leaving from and returning to work, for reasons too tiresome to relate.

Anyways, the test itself went fine, although I felt quite self-conscious being naked from the waist up, not to mention the discomfort of walking and jogging without a bra (do NOT tell me TMI!).  I had to laugh when I was lying on my side while a technician took “pictures” of my heart.

“I feel like I’m getting a boudoir photo taken,” I said.

It took me a while on the treadmill to get out of breath.  Let’s hear it for running!  The technicians were also impressed by how quickly I got back into heart-picture-taking position when I got off the treadmill.

The really bad part came next, when they hooked me up to a heart monitor that I have to wear for 30 days.  That may be worth a blog post all its own!

In the meantime,  I am closing in on 300 words. Not bad for thinking I wasn’t even going to post till tomorrow morning.

 

“Shapewear” Is So A Word, Computer!

Breathing is not overrated.  That is what I tell myself at times like this.  You see, when I get stressed, I forget to breathe.  Then I take a deep breath and it’s like, “Oh yeah, oxygen.”

When I was in the army learning how to run, and I ran into difficulties (see what I did there?), I would tell myself, “Breathing is overrated.”  Eventually I learned how to run and breathe, but first I learned how far I can actually run while gasping and choking in a most unbecoming fashion.  However, this is not a post about running.  I would probably feel a good deal less stressed if I had taken the time for a short run or walk.  However, that ship sailed, to resort to cliche (it is less of a cliche if you point out that you are using a cliche; another technique is to add the word “proverbial,”as in “that proverbial ship has sailed.  Then you sound all self-aware and post-ironic) (but I digress).

Another deep breath, which I need after that last paragraph.  I am working through my last-minute fluster attack before leaving for dress rehearsal for Morning’s at Seven, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre.  I believe I have mentioned it once or twice.

After work, and a convoluted drive back to Herkimer, due to congestion and construction, I stopped at the store to get the pantyhose and underwear I mentioned earlier.  I am a little worried, because the only pantyhose (they are, in fact, tights, but let us not quibble over semantics) in the color I wanted (off-white) were control top. YES, I have a top to control.  However, when I attempt to do so, I experience extreme torture for very little result.  What a cruel hoax shapewear is!

And look at me, 300 words and I’m not late.  Yet.  Happy Thursday, everyone.

I wonder if wine is overrated.

 

 

To Blog or Not to Blog

Today’s mantra is, “Less stress.”  I have very little reason for stress.  OK, that’s a polite fiction I am telling myself.  The fact is, we all have reasons for stress, and stress is not always a bad thing.  However, since this is not Lame Post Friday, I will not philosophize (half-bakedly or otherwise) on stress.  Instead I will attempt a moderately amusing Non-Sequitur Thursday post.  I think I’ll use pictures.  I think Steven may have downloaded a couple of new ones…

I am NOT saying, “To be or not to be.”

This is LiFT rehearsing The Tempest at 120 London Bridge,  Caroga Lake, where we will perform on Saturday at 6 p.m.  It is a donation-based performance. I’m not sure what the suggested (or requested) donation is.  It is a lovely space to perform in.  Incidentally, I am the one in yellow tights, Acting (yes, it needs a capital A).  The photo was taken by Matt Powers, our director.

I missed him on TV!

Recently, Matt went on NewsTalk on WKTV to talk about LiFt and Shakespeare.  This is not what he will actually wear in The Tempest (he has two roles), but I think it was quite a theatrical choice for publicity purposes.

I’m not sure who took this photo; it was on LiFTs Facebook page.

To include three photos, as I like to do, here is one from early days of rehearsal, at Sterzinar Park, Canal Place, where next weekend’s performances take place.  I’m the one center stage, looking fairly ridiculous in the big old hat with a sweatshirt tied around my waist.  I tied on the sweatshirt not because I had tied one on (sorry; just had to make the play on words), but because I wanted something to put my sword through.  We had just started working on them.  I have a better looking sword holder now.

Performances of The Tempest in Little Falls  include Aug. 10, 6 p.m., Benton’s Landing; Aug. 12, 4 p.m., Sterzinar Park; and Aug. 13, 3 p.m., Sterzinar Park.  For more information, check out LiFT’s Facebook page.