Week of Nice, Commence!

Hey there, Stressy McFreakedout here. Just wanting to let you know how this week is going to go, ok? Just some tips for you on how to help a lady out.


First of all, do not bring up the following things as they relate to me: illness of a family member, possible loss of job, library budgets, mortgages, refinancing, health insurance, and possible death of those close to me, especially kids and the elderly. Or hows about we just steer clear of death as a topic regarding any of my loved ones? Kay? Thanks.

Even if you think you're being helpful, just don't ask about any of that. If I want to talk about it, I will let you know. (Special note to Mom: every time we talk on the phone, you don't need to say "so have you found out if you're laid off yet?" I love you Mom, but that is DRIVING ME BATTY).

None of these things are new topics in my life. I am well-versed on the family long term illness one, for example. But last week the planets aligned in just such a way as to make me FREEEEEEK OWWWWT, even though there really isn't a ton of new news on that front, other than yep, things continue to suck in an ever-increasing spiral of doom. I know the freaking out is because I am tired, and if I could get a good night's sleep that would help me get back to my regularly scheduled programming of deep breathing and yukking it up Despite It All.

Which brings me to my next request. If you could arrange my life in such a way for me, so as to make it that I can get to bed at a reasonable hour and sleep until I am done sleeping, that would be gosh-awful nice of you. And if you are a new parent who is way more sleep-deprived than me, try not to punch me in the face for even asking this of you.

Also, conversations about kitties, puppies, and cotton candy are always welcome. Off-color humor is also fully acceptable.

The other thing? Don't tell me that I look tired. I know I look tired. Telling me that doesn't make me feel less tired. Also, don't point out to me that you see more gray hair on my head. That one actually happened to me last week and I wonder where someone went to charm school, with commentary like that.

The thing that I hate the worst about stress? Besides, you know, the fact that it stresses me out? Is that it makes my world SO VERY SMALL. I just think about me, me, me. It just gets reedickaless.

So, to combat the overwhelming me-ness of last week, I am declaring this the Week of Nice. I am going to do something nice for the people I care about. Send a card, make some cookies, call them up, show up at their door with an interpretive dance set to Three Times a Lady. Just something. So, friends, spotlight on you.

I am also declaring this the Week of Sleepytimes. Just because I deserve a little Nice too.