Broken

by theobfuscatedone

Stress comes in two main forms: good stress and bad stress.  In January, when C and I were given the go ahead to do an art show, there was good stress.  The idea of a show was thrilling, full of possibilities, and an extraordinary opportunity for both of us.  Now, seven months later, the stress that stems from the final show debacle is bad stress.  This is stress that makes the idea of the show less than exciting (total understatement.)  And now, to top it all off, living under one form of stress or another for seven months has added one more insult to injury- I’m sick.  Sick to the point where, in the 80 degree sunny day, I wore long pants and a heavy sweatshirt and was still cold.  Walking up a short flight of stairs made me feel like I was going to pass out.  I slept until 10:30AM.  I normally wake up between 8:30AM and 9AM and spend the day walking to school, walking to the grocery store, walking back, doing yoga, etc.  Today, walking from my apartment to the parking lot, perhaps 50 feet, made me so tired I had to sit down while I waited for my friend to come pick me up.  In about a week the final show preparations went from full speed to full stop and now, so have I.  I can’t even handle Netflix’s latest shenanigans.  There have been several points today where tears were in order.  You know that saying, “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”?  Well, life just dumped 20 tons of lemons on me.  I’ll make lemonade once the the body cast comes off.

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