All posts tagged stress

The Relevance of Bill Clinton, Big Ben, and Naked Bodies.

Published December 31, 2014 by ABadKitten

“What time is it?!” The question echoed throughout the room as I and my drool-covered pillow tumbled onto the floor, unraveling the cozy blanket cocoon I had, undoubtedly, spent all night creating. I scrambled to my dresser where, apparently, my clock was supposed to be. Right? Well, it wasn’t there.

“Shit! Shit! Where are you?” I wondered aloud, shoving everything in sight (including a very lovely crystal jewelry box that I didn’t remember having) onto the floor in a large heap. Nope, no clock here. I scurried out the bedroom door and into the super purple hallway, freezing in place. Staring ahead at the oddly furry wall, I uttered another plethora of obscenities as I realized there was no clock directly in front of me. What did this mean? The entire house was devoid of items to tell me what the hell time it was.

“Mike!” I screamed, hoping my boyfriend was home. “Mike! I think I’m late! What time is it? I think I’m late for work!”

“Huh…?” he wondered sleepily, shuffling from, what appeared to be, a bathroom/kitchen hybrid of a room. “What do you mean ‘What time is it’? If you can’t find your clock, why don’t you just look at Big Ben?” Duh! Why didn’t I think of that? The giant clock tower would tell me what time it was and then I would know if I was late! That’s why I keep this genius of a man around, obviously, because he has such stupendous ideas all the time.

Since we were both already conveniently dressed even though we both just woke up, we dashed out the door, hopped into the car, and drove a record two feet, landing smack dab in the middle of Time Square. At least, it looked like Time Square… there were no cars and no roads. Everyone was walking and the entire ground was made of very fine-looking cobblestone. The people were all wearing petticoats and sleek fancy jackets, no hats, and were apparently all very anti-social as there was zero sound aside from the lovely songs of invisible birds. Did I mention there were no trees?

“Where is Big Ben? I need to know what time it is! I’m going to be late for work!” I whined, stomping my feet on the ground like a child who was just denied a piece of chocolate while on the check out line at the grocery store. This captured the attention of a passerby who stopped directly in front of me.

“Big Ben? Isn’t that the clock tower in England? Because if you’re looking to find out what time it is that’s definitely the place to go. The clock tower here disappeared three days ago. It’s been so hard to keep appointments since then!” The blonde stranger which gigantic yellow glasses started cackling like a witch in between loud pig-snorts. This didn’t bother me, though, so it must be a normal thing that I just never noticed before.

I thanked the kind stranger, grabbed Mike his apparently easily accessible belt and booked it for the car.

Which was gone.

“Damn it! Now how am I supposed to get to Big Ben? I need to know what time it is! I don’t want to get fired!” I turned into Mike’s chest and started to sob like a baby. He wrapped his arms around me soothingly and started softly singing “Animals” by Maroon 5, swaying us back and forth slightly. I found this so calming that the stream of tears immediately halted and I let out the largest burp I had ever released in my entire life. Irrelevant.

“Big Ben? Are you looking for a jet? Because I have a nice fancy jet.” I turned to see Bill Clinton, finely dressed in a fancy blue suite and red tie, jogging in place before us.

“Oh my god, yes! Yes, please! I need to make sure I’m not late for work!” While speaking I must have been jumping up and down excitedly because everything was suddenly blurry and shaking violently.

It all righted itself when Mike grabbed my arm, looked me dead in the eye and said, vehemently, “No, thanks. We’ll walk.”

“What are you talking about?” I laughed, clearly not taking the hint, “We can’t walk to England! It’s too far and neither of us have our water shoes.”

“Water shoes?” Mr. Clinton wondered aloud. “Well I don’t know about water shoes but I absolutely know about giant clock towers.” He was shoving us both towards the direction of his jet, directly in front of us. Huh. Hadn’t noticed that.

Before I knew it, we were in the air. The interior of the plane was very lavish. The walls literally looked like beige pillows coated with tiny diamonds. There was a mini bar lined with leopard print fur and the disco ball above it spun slowly.

And Bill Clinton sat in front of me, staring straight at me. He looked…different than when I had bumped into him first. His eyes were the size of saucers and he didn’t have a nose. Just a giant ear-to-ear- grin and snow-white hair. This didn’t bother me, though. It also didn’t bother me that, as I looked out the window, all I could see was fluffy pink sky with literal glitter for miles and tons of multi-colored stars everywhere I looked.

Wait, what?

“Huh…it looks so different outside. Is this the right way to England?” I asked Mike who was staring daggers at Bill Clinton.

“Yes, dear.” Bill answered in a low voice. “We’ll be gettin’ ya tuh Benny in no time.” This was a satisfying answer to me, as I nodded happily and drank the champagne in my hand, where ever that came from.

Suddenly, the former president was on top of me, snarling and drooling red, sticky goo everywhere. “Your head! I want your head! Eat it! I want eat!” he was snarling. At least, it sounded like that. I couldn’t clearly make out what he was screeching above Mike’s death threats and curses as he tackled good old psycho used-to-be-Bill-Clinton to the ground.

“Don’t ever try to eat my girlfriend’s head! Do you understand me?” He screamed at Bill, spitting in his face repeatedly and poking him in…the stomach. For some reason. “I love her and her head is wonderful!”

And then there was no ceiling. I looked up and all I saw was a swirling black vortex with…of course…glitter sparkling everywhere amongst the tiny spurts of purple and blue. It suddenly dawned on me that I didn’t have work today and that Big Ben was no longer as important as plunging into the abyss above our heads. Did I mention it was also insanely windy? But thankfully, my hair was not affected. Just everything in the cabin, clothes included, as it was all literally sucked out around us.

Stark naked, Mike and I jumped hand-in-hand into the dark swirling beauty of…what ever it was around the jet…leaving a roaring Bill Clinton monster behind us.

And then I woke up to an elbow in the face.


Damn you, Fear.

Published November 14, 2013 by ABadKitten

I don’t remember where I heard the phrase “Fear is a myth that we make alive with our belief” but I always wanted to believe that. I never did, but I wanted to. At least it would make certain aspects of life just a little bit easier if I did.

As defined on Wikipedia, “Fear is an emotion induced by a perceived threat which causes entities to quickly pull far away from it and usually hide. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. In short, fear is the ability to recognize danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it (also known as the fight or flight response) but in extreme cases of fear (horror and terror) a freeze or paralysis response is possible.” Too bad there is not always a specific reason for a person to feel fear. Sometimes, there doesn’t seem to be any reason at all.

Two nights ago, I got barely any sleep. I kept waking up every half hour or so absolutely and utterly terrified. Of what? I have no idea. After being jolted awake, I just laid there for a little thinking about what was terrifying me and why. When I could come up with no answer, I relaxed and went back to sleep. This went on for the remainder of the night.

Last night, I kept dosing off on the couch before I actually went to bed. I was jolted awake by the sounds of knocking and scratching– both which weren’t really happening. It kept happening each time I dozed off until I had had enough, turned off my tv and went to bed where I slept soundly all night.

Now, waking up this morning I’m nervous…but this time I actually have a reason. The PS4 is launching today and I, being the store manager, have all of the stress of “Will it go smoothly?” and “What if, god forbid, the police doesn’t show up as they say and we get robbed?” and all those thoughts of worst-case-scenarios. I’m going to have the same fears next week when the Xbox One releases. It’s normal. It’s holiday season and this is my first year as a store manager so it’s a tad stressful.

The point to my ramblings is that my fear this morning has a basis and something real to fear. My fears the past few days have been based on feelings that have no reason to exist and sounds I’m only hearing in my subconscious that don’t really exist either. Fear makes life complicated. It kept me from sleeping the other night and kept me from relaxing last night. It’s keeping me from walking into work with my head held high today because I’m absolutely terrified something might happen.

The positive side is at least I’m aware of worst-case-scenarios and acknowledge they exist beyond the bounds of my imagination. They could happen, though it doesn’t mean they actually will. Being jolted awake by terror that you can’t explain doesn’t really have a positive side. The only thing I can think to relate it to is stress and anxiety.

Damn, fear. It makes life so difficult.

How do you deal with stress?

Published November 8, 2013 by ABadKitten

Image Sometimes I wonder, in the midst of having a mini anxiety attack, about what other people are stressing out about in that particular moment. How many peoples’ stress levels are as high as mine? Lower? Higher, even? And why? Everyone is dealing with their own something in their life because, well, that’s life. If we could control everything that happened during our days and easily fix every incident that happened, life would not be life.

What I also wonder, though, is how other people deal with it. How does the man who is going through a divorce which threatens to suck him dry go through his day to day life without losing it? What about the parent whose child is a known drug-abuser? There are so many crappy things that so many different people are going through but how are they all surviving it?

I used to run, walk, write, draw. Now, I barely have time to even cook myself dinner because of how often I’m working. The crappy part is that work is what has me so stressed out! I don’t have time to exercise to clear my mind and I very rarely even get the chance to write as I’ve done today. Finding something to help me get through these next few months without completely snapping seems like an endless search.

How do you deal with stress when you’re in the middle of it 98% of the week?