Choking

I'm hardcore choking at work today. 2 hours in and the only thing I've really done is stare blankly at my email inbox, vibrating as I try to suppress the powerful urge to run away. Yesterday, I logged 62 voice mails; today, I have been greeted with over 300 emails, one of which is the confirmation for my flight to LA. Dear lord, I even wrote a poem about it...and it rhymed. MAKE IT STOP.

One coping mechanism I've discovered is to sit at my desk with Iggy Pop's "Candy" playing on repeat on my iPod and IM my equally stressed-out coworker, who sits approximately 20 feet away from me. A longer-term solution is, of course, to return to barista-hood, and make do with less money, but more time and sanity. It seems ironic that shopping for products that are supposed to relieve stress should cause my cortisol levels to reach such alarming new heights. Hmm, no, not "new"; I just remembered that, after 2 years of editing, I was sleeping 2 hours a night, losing 2 pounds a week, and smoking 2 packs of cigarettes per day. That couldn't have been a sign of health and stability.

Equally stressed-out coworker has just offered to take me out tonight and teach me how to enjoy beer. I'm tempted, although getting up at 8 am tomorrow morning with my first beer-induced hangover and stumbling to the Redwood Forest to work out with my 80-lb trainer (who rises at 5 am each and every morning) might not be the best idea. Especially since my boyfriend took me out last night for lots of wine and cheese and the sun is stabbing me a little more deeply than usual today.

Most boring post ever?