When the momvan 'sploded yesterday, I made an instant decision that I wasn't going to let it stress me out. Yes, I realize that I don't have a job, and that I have to get seven people where they belong every day, and that there is absolutely no way that I can fix this situation, but being all pissy about it won't help anything, right?
I was very proud of myself, I didn't yell or cry or anything. And I was actually in a good mood. There is a certain freedom that comes with realizing that you can't fix something and you just have to see what happens...it's an adventure, yo. Also, my brother in law (the one that is famous) is letting me use his truck for a few days (well, my sister is letting me use his truck, and I'm not sure if she told him or not), and I kind of like it better than ANY van, so I don't mind "needing" to drive the truck around. *sigh* how I miss my truck.
Whatever, anyway...When I decide not to stress, I usually find that I have some physical reaction. When I was a kid and got nervous or excited, I would be sick for two weeks at a time and lose 15 pounds. I wish I still had that problem. Then, it turned into migraines, then I held my breath without noticing until I got all dizzy or woke up dead (which, pretty bad start to any day, ya know?). That changed to clenching my jaw to the point that my face hurt so bad I once went to my doc and told him I was having a stroke but he laughed at me. For the last few months, I've really been working on not doing that, because it does hurt and I don't like it.
When I left my momvan on the side of the road, my neck started itching, but I wasn't throwing up, I didn't have a headache, I was breathing and my teeth weren't clenched, so it's all good, right? Nope. Now, I have this awesome itchy neck and face thing, which made for a good impression during class today when I looked like I was addicted to crack.
I want to know where you're supposed to store stress? It's going to come out, I think. Either you freak out and yell or cry, or your body starts falling apart. Did you know that zombies are really people who are just having stress reactions? Neither did I until I woke up as a zombie this morning, with my skin falling off and a strange craving for flesh...but now I know. In case of the zombie apocalypse, just hit 'em with some Xanax, and while you're at it, light a joint and save yourself, yo.
And I'm a little angry at you, Interwebz, because I get lots of readers but few followers. This isn't a problem, really, other than the fact that I don't know who is reading, and what if I need to ask a question but I don't know if any of you can answer it? For instance, if I wanted to know how trustworthy an old Chevy 6.5L turbo diesel may be, would you know? I don't know if you would know! This is a problem, Interwebz. A serious problem. Interwebz, I don't want to have to Google you, so will you just be honest with me about this issue? Otherwise I may have to turn this into a diesel blog, and I'm pretty sure that you don't want that. Also? Diesel is awesome, but not funny, so I don't want that, either.
