Under Stress

Except for NAF posts, I haven't been around much, have I?

I'm having one of those mornings where I wander around almost starting things and getting distracted by the other thing I ought to do first. I should write a blog post, but I should run the sprinkler at the same time, but that means I should put clothes on, but I don't know what to wear, and I can write a post in my night clothes. So it goes.

I've been under stress lately. Not nervous breakdown levels, but persistent, pervasive stress. Stress at work. Stress with a group I belong to. Stress with the weird weather and my plans for The Swamp. Even stress with Zynga, which has led to the much-needed and long-awaited weaning from Farmville and the stress that comes with losing that outlet. Even my mouse is causing me stress. I think it's broken. It keeps over-clicking things, which may have led to my stress with Zynga.

Long ago, I would have relieved my stress by bringing it to this blog and venting for a while. I can't really do that anymore.

My job is confidential. I am the cemetery and funeral home auditor for the State of Kansas (they won't let me call myself Graveyard Investigator, but I keep trying). I look at bank records and whatnot to make sure the money people prepay for their funerals is where it needs to be to fund those funerals when they happen.

Yeah. I don't know how I got this gig, either.

Anyway, I can't just show up here and pop off every time I get irritated at work. It's unprofessional, and inappropriate and I plain won't do it. Same goes for the group I'm working with. I can't vent here. People in that group could read this blog. It's unlikely, but possible. Unfortunately, I don't have anyplace else to pop off. I've lost My Dear Friend to new love, my Best Friend to her job and family (not her fault, she's a teacher), and the Fam have lives of their own, although I truly appreciate their efforts to include me. Turtles don't clump.

I studied Human Development in college. When we got to this age, the 40-50 range, I remember thinking, "That'll be my time. My married friends (even then, I knew I wouldn't marry) will be launching their children. They'll have more time for socializing, for rediscovering the world outside their little nests."

Didn't occur to me all my friends would be divorced and working on creating new nests with totally different people. This is why you can't count on humans. They continuously interrupt your plans.

Happy Thursday, dear readers. Put your good clothes on. You'll need them today.