When Stress Comes In Little Packages
The big issues in life are things I can handle. Sure, they are stressful, but few are rarely a surprise.
It's the little things that get me.
For example, talking to someone and thinking you're making some headway only to realize that you are the only one trying to do so.
Here's a from a conversation I had in Baltimore, Maryland, Friday night. Now, keep in mind I'd been up for 24 hours and was exhausted. All I wanted was a hotel room that was non-smoking.
The sign said: "After hours, press bell for service".
I did and after a few minutes, an old man comes from the back room.
"Yes?"
"I was looking for a bed tonight and wondered what your rates were."
"A bed? What kind of bed?"
"Well, I'd like a room with two double-beds if you have that, or a king-sized bed is fine as long as it's non-smoking."
He stared at me.
I looked at my watch: 1:38 a.m. I had been in heels and panty hose for more than 18 hours and wanted nothing more than to sleep.
He was still staring at me.
"What do you mean non-smoking?"
"I'm allergic to cigarette smoke so I need a room where no one has smoked... if you have it."
"Can't say if the room is non-smoking or not. Can't say at all what them people does in the room after I give it to 'em."
I was speechless, but my car was still running outside, I was still tired, so I continued.
"How much is a room?"
"$69.99 before taxes."
"That will be fine. Can I see the room first please?"
He stared at me and started to smile.
"Can't show you somethin' I don't have."
"Excuse me?"
"Ain't got any rooms tonight smokin' or otherwise."
"Nothing? Not even one free bed?"
"Nope. Sold out hours ago. You might try a few miles down the road though. Sometimes they have rooms."
Truly speechless and realizing I'd wasted a good ten minutes on NOTHING, I left.
It was another agonizing twenty miles before I could bring myself to stop again. (By then the anger-fueled adrenaline was gone.)
Why in the world this guy couldn't tell me he was already sold out when I walked in the door was a complete mystery to me.
On any other occassion, I might not have been as tired as I was, but Friday was one of those days when the hours just keep passing and passing and passing and before you know it, it's a new day and you're still in the clothes you put on hours earlier.
I hadn't planned on wearing my dress clothes for almost 24 hours, but it turned out that way and I can't say it helped my mood any.
Stress? What stress?
Easy things shouldn't be hard and when they are, unnecessarily so, it pushes me to the edge because I don't know how to handle it.
I couldn't yell at the guy. He was lonely and probably glad to have someone to talk to. But I needed a place to crash and instead of helping me facilitate that process, he extended my quest.
I shouldn't let things like this get to me, but I do.
Managing stress is a skill I continue to work on. I may not be able to control what happens, but I can control how I respond to it.
It's the little things that get me.
For example, talking to someone and thinking you're making some headway only to realize that you are the only one trying to do so.
Here's a from a conversation I had in Baltimore, Maryland, Friday night. Now, keep in mind I'd been up for 24 hours and was exhausted. All I wanted was a hotel room that was non-smoking.
The sign said: "After hours, press bell for service".
I did and after a few minutes, an old man comes from the back room.
"Yes?"
"I was looking for a bed tonight and wondered what your rates were."
"A bed? What kind of bed?"
"Well, I'd like a room with two double-beds if you have that, or a king-sized bed is fine as long as it's non-smoking."
He stared at me.
I looked at my watch: 1:38 a.m. I had been in heels and panty hose for more than 18 hours and wanted nothing more than to sleep.
He was still staring at me.
"What do you mean non-smoking?"
"I'm allergic to cigarette smoke so I need a room where no one has smoked... if you have it."
"Can't say if the room is non-smoking or not. Can't say at all what them people does in the room after I give it to 'em."
I was speechless, but my car was still running outside, I was still tired, so I continued.
"How much is a room?"
"$69.99 before taxes."
"That will be fine. Can I see the room first please?"
He stared at me and started to smile.
"Can't show you somethin' I don't have."
"Excuse me?"
"Ain't got any rooms tonight smokin' or otherwise."
"Nothing? Not even one free bed?"
"Nope. Sold out hours ago. You might try a few miles down the road though. Sometimes they have rooms."
Truly speechless and realizing I'd wasted a good ten minutes on NOTHING, I left.
It was another agonizing twenty miles before I could bring myself to stop again. (By then the anger-fueled adrenaline was gone.)
Why in the world this guy couldn't tell me he was already sold out when I walked in the door was a complete mystery to me.
On any other occassion, I might not have been as tired as I was, but Friday was one of those days when the hours just keep passing and passing and passing and before you know it, it's a new day and you're still in the clothes you put on hours earlier.
I hadn't planned on wearing my dress clothes for almost 24 hours, but it turned out that way and I can't say it helped my mood any.
Stress? What stress?
Easy things shouldn't be hard and when they are, unnecessarily so, it pushes me to the edge because I don't know how to handle it.
I couldn't yell at the guy. He was lonely and probably glad to have someone to talk to. But I needed a place to crash and instead of helping me facilitate that process, he extended my quest.
I shouldn't let things like this get to me, but I do.
Managing stress is a skill I continue to work on. I may not be able to control what happens, but I can control how I respond to it.