This morning I leaned in real close to the mirror and jerked back in horror. My skin is not baby-smooth and delicately pink even on my best days, but it has not been quite this–unfortunate in a very long time. Pimples. A constellation of tiny pimples, angry little bumps along my jaw and my chin and cheeks. I am a ball of zits, a zit ball, not even a ball, just a giant zit, and it is not attractive, as it turns out. And it is because of stress.
Some people thrive on stress. Some people internalize the stress and sort of glow from the inside with the brutal, incandescent energy that stress turned into action and dynamic fortitude can create. Of course, it is nuclear, radioactive, dangerous and it isn’t good for you in the long run, but it can be used for good in the short term.
Me, I break down a little bit and the pieces that fall off are replaced with angry, overworking sebaceous glands who panic and secrete panic through my pores.
Is there a skill, a trick, some kind of factory to which I can ship my
stress and have it sent back to me in a neatly wrapped package labeled
“Awesome Reserves of Energy?” We need to track this place down, which
is in a secret desert location high in the mountains underneath the
ocean in space. And as soon as I find it, I will raid it, steal their
secrets, and we will all welcome stress, embrace stress, live and love
the stress and get so much done!