Stressed to Kill

Stressed to Kill

I've been told by the editors of this wonderful Internet magazine that eliminating all stress could allow me to live to be 180 years old. They even suggested I write an article about it. Originally, I didn't think I had the time, but this changes everything.

There are 2,345 things that have the potential of driving me crazy and causing stress, but I've decided to let only three of them get the best of me. Three out of 2,345 is a pretty good percentage. Okay, I may only live to 178, but I'm willing to give up a few years just to get some of this stuff off my chest. Like this letter I got the other day from my storage facility:

Dear Mr. Wolfsie,

In order to continue to provide you with the quality service you have come to expect, we are raising your monthly rate from $35.00 to $40.00.

EXCUSE ME!!! Quality service? What service? It's a closet, next to 400 other closets. I put stuff in the box MYSELF. I clean the closet; I rearrange the closet; I throw out stuff; I put in new stuff. They do NOTHING. There's only one person who works in the entire place. What's her job? She sends out notices telling me my rates are going up.

Here's something else that's stressing me out. Our waiter the other night at a very nice restaurant introduced himself and said he would be our ambassador for the evening. HELLO! Our what? Look, I don't want an ambassador. I want a waiter. It's hard enough getting another beer from a waiter, but now you throw some international politics into this and I could be alcohol free the rest of my life.

One more: I'm trying to gear up for spring, and people in my neighborhood still have a Christmas wreath on their door and a tree in their living room. It gets worse. They actually turn them on. I can forgive someone who's just too busy to pack up the holiday stuff, but when you make a conscious effort to put on the lights, you're just looking for a post-Noel fight. There's a part of me that wants to dress up like a Leprechaun, knock on their door March 17th, and introduce them to a new holiday. And while I'm at it, I think I'll crush the jack-o-lantern on their porch. I'm tired of that, also.

There were a few other things that could have stressed me out this week: high gas prices, Korea's nuclear weapons, and terrorism. But I'm not going let those things bother me. If I can only pick three, I'll stick with the important stuff. I'll live longer that way.