Stress

It’s been a stressful few weeks here in Lake Woebegone. I’ve finally been semi-officially let in on the problem from three weeks ago at work, mostly because the situation was exacerbated by an incident that happened at work two weeks ago. While the incident has been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction, the problem remains like the sword of Damocles; when the thread snaps I won’t be directly under the point of the blade, but I am in a position to get nicely splattered by the blood of the sacrificial lambs strategically positioned below.

To complicate things, I made a serious mistake at work last June that was only caught last week. I was saved only by the fact that most of the work that was screwed up was duplicated by other departments (although the “duplication” was a stretch in some cases) and by the fact that there was someone who should have caught my mistake five months and three weeks ago, but didn’t. Since the other person is the one who could nail my hide to the wall, and since the only way they could nail my hide is by nailing their own onto the shed next to mine, it was more convenient to simply pretend that everything was in order. I didn’t even get my knuckles rapped with a ruler. That particular gaffe was resolved yesterday morning, which allowed me to resume concentrating my stress on personal items.

I’ve noticed a funny thing – I tend to get migraines after intense periods of stress are ended. Sure enough, last night added further evidence to this trend. I woke at about 2:00 a.m. with a headache, got up to take some Tylenol, and noticed immediately thereafter that my stomach was sour. I returned to bed hoping I hadn’t caught a stomach flu. About half-an-hour after that the pain in my left temple flared to nova intensity, and I realized that I’d have rather had a stomach bug.

I finally shook the last vestiges of the migraine late this afternoon, which brings me to a second thing I’ve noticed about migraines. There is a post-migraine “high” that almost makes a migraine worthwhile. It’s a feeling of utter relief, that nothing can ever go wrong again. I should savor that, since I doubt I’ll be feeling that way again for a while.

Tomorrow I start the first of my many book wrapping shifts for the cat shelter. I’m covering 9:00 am through 3:00 pm tomorrow. While I haven’t signed up for it, the 6:00-10:00 shift only has one person working it, so I may return to help out in the evening.

Then I go to work Monday, wrap Monday night, and begin a five-workday vacation that has me overseeing the wrapping booth until Christmas Eve. With Christmas off, that gives me an eight day stretch of time away from work. I’m looking forward to having nothing more pressing on my mind than asking people if they want the snow globe wrapping paper, or if they’d prefer the famous quotations paper instead.

Six days until Dr. Fell.