I do not handle stress well.

I am thankful that stress registers at different levels, however. Heart-wrenchingly painful and dire circumstances mean I will not sleep or eat a wink until things are smoothed over a bit, while little bumps in the road generally mean I become highly irritable and cranky. What I am trying to say is that things could always be worse. My current stress? The fact that I have things scheduled everyday next week…this is the first time this has happened for about a year. I am excited, happy and thrilled but I am also anxious, confused and scared. What if I can’t keep up? What if I lost my knack for getting up and going? What if I lag behind a bit? This becomes even more difficult when I remember a. I do not know where my school is, b. I do not know what grad school will be like and c. I am really lazy and stress = me changing a million times before I get the nerve to leave the house.
On a lesser scale, I am also worried about Saturday when I go to try on my might-be wedding dress. See, I picked out a bunch of dresses just to “try on and see” last time I was there and kinda fell in love with 2. Both incredibly different from the other, with one edging out the competition a tad. The one in the lead is a UK size 10, aka the smallest dress in the store that the clerk went out of her way to point out “no one has been able to zip up yet”. Except for me. Yay! Celebration! right? wrong. Now I am scared that everything I eat will go directly to my back where the zipper is located (ignore the fact that we also shoved a sponge down the back to tighten the fit). Oh, the joys of the whole- “body as a warzone” mentality.
Dear body,
I will only put stuff in you (besides coffee) if you promise not to sabotage Saturday. There will be more people there and the last thing I want is to look like the Michelin man in front of my future mother-in-law.
I am endlessly silly.

Advertisement