*Which I habitually avoid, because it's insane and who really wants alligator cheesecake on a stick?
Friday, June 25, 2010
Lookin' & Cookin'
*Which I habitually avoid, because it's insane and who really wants alligator cheesecake on a stick?
Hurly-Burly
I'm most definitely a stress-puker. I had an ulcer in late 1998, and maybe it didn't ever fully go away, not sure. But I've found that I get reflux really bad if I'm stressed, and I can totally go from normal to pukelicious when stressed. I really try not to internalize stress, really, really try to roll with things, but sometimes when confronted with something I can't roll with, the puke button gets hit and voila. Had that happen last night in a lengthy (yet coldly undramatic) confrontation with Exene. I really, really hope she gets the job she's interviewing for today (this is the third interview). Then I can finally move on. I can't believe the metric tonnage of emotional pain I soaked up over the years with her. It didn't break me, but sheesh. My stomach, however, is definitely my weak point. I've been fine for months and months, and we get in an argument last night (she confronted me about the Chore Chart, and away we flew) and it was hurlin' time (not a lot), and then I had reflux all night and had to sleep sitting up. I keep worrying about that with my own job hunting looming, thinking "PLEASE let me be able to manage interview stress without getting hurly."
I'm gonna watch the Brazil v. Portugal game this morning and then Spain's game against Chile later today, and just chill out in general. I'm generally a cool customer, but I'm passionate, emotional, and very sensitive, and I just soak up bad vibes like a sponge -- strongly empathic. That's good and bad. I'll work out extra-long tonight to help get at stress via cardio.
I had a dream last night that I was running. Running and running, chasing two people down in my childhood neighborhood. I couldn't fathom how I was losing the race, and just poured on the energy, to the extent that my dream-brain was like "You hate jogging; WTF??" I woke up before I reached my destination, kind of annoyed, as I was hauling ass in my dream, my eyes fixated on the sidewalk shooting by in my downward field of vision, my feet pounding. And, no, I honestly can't fully remember who I was chasing. It wasn't Exene, I know that for sure. There might've been a zombie apocalypse element to the dream, too.
I'm gonna watch the Brazil v. Portugal game this morning and then Spain's game against Chile later today, and just chill out in general. I'm generally a cool customer, but I'm passionate, emotional, and very sensitive, and I just soak up bad vibes like a sponge -- strongly empathic. That's good and bad. I'll work out extra-long tonight to help get at stress via cardio.
I had a dream last night that I was running. Running and running, chasing two people down in my childhood neighborhood. I couldn't fathom how I was losing the race, and just poured on the energy, to the extent that my dream-brain was like "You hate jogging; WTF??" I woke up before I reached my destination, kind of annoyed, as I was hauling ass in my dream, my eyes fixated on the sidewalk shooting by in my downward field of vision, my feet pounding. And, no, I honestly can't fully remember who I was chasing. It wasn't Exene, I know that for sure. There might've been a zombie apocalypse element to the dream, too.
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