Thinkin' About Nothin' . . .

Is self-stress killing me or hard work?

That's a really good question!

I've been doing a heap-o-thinkin' since writing yesterday's post. There has always been self inflicted stress in my life for as long as I can remember. A child should not be afflicted with stress but apparently I was. I've carried that scenario my entire life not knowing how to break free. Quite possibly if I free myself from my lifetime bad habit I could add a few years to my life.

I have a note on my refrigerator "stay focused." As you see by what I write it's hard, really hard to do that one thing! But that's me, always has been.

I wear glasses and even with a relatively new prescription it's very hard to keep up close in focus, cause it's, too close, you see! Being too close with glasses made to produce the proper clarity with what is called progressive lenses, ones eyes must be in proper alignment with the corrective lenses. It is hard to keep balance in head movements and such to stay focused.

It's so much harder in life. If I can stay within myself mentally, by avoiding stress then old Glen be in balance. (I ain't never been in balance for very long in my life! But when I am, I love it!)

Example, rules in the workplace are there for a reason, right? Rules and such that are to be adhered to by adults. I'm the one that's hard of hearing, yet I adhere to them, you'd think ones with good hearing would have an easier time of adhering, wouldn't you?

If from day one the managers would make the new ones adhere to the rules then if you did not adhere you would not stay here! Here it be just that simple!

I'm here tonight to self-diagnose myself for stress. I put stress on myself if others don't follow the rules, why is that? Jimmy Joe Bob be over there fucking off and the rest of us good old boys and good old girl's be a workin'. Because it's Jimmy Joe Bob that be okay. Well it ain't to Glen Bob, he get pissed and stressed because, it ain't right baby! Huh, uh, no way, no shape, no how! But Glen Bob has seen it his whole life. The special ones . . . receive special treatment. WHY? I ASK?

So maybe I should ask my Doctor. Doctor, Doctor, give me some stop giving a shit pills, please! How do I not care or not give a crap, I wanna some of them really good pills. When someone especially my bosses look into my eyes and they see themselves, in my mirror eyes, yeah . . . man that's what I want.

I say to my Doctor, "Doc. they got pills for everythang . . . today! I see them on the television, ain't no reason what so ever old Glen, should be a stressed out, huh, uh!

WELL NOW, I DON'T A RECKON, WORK KILLS ME, IT'S THE STRESS SHIT, I CANNOT GET AWAY FROM INSIDE MYSELF, THAT'S A KILLING ME!

My mother has the answer if you remember I asked her one time, while we're sitting on her front porch on a warm summer day, "mom what are you a thinkin' 'bout?"

"NOTHIN'" SHE SAYS.

I MADE THE MISTAKE OF SAYING, "MOM . . .  YOU HAVE TO BE A THINKIN' 'BOUT SOMETHIN'!"

SHE QUIPPED BACK WITH A LITTLE FIRE FROM HER BELLY,    ""I'M THINKIN' 'BOUT NOTHIN'!"

WELL I LONG FOR SOME OF THAT,   "I'M THINKIN' 'BOUT NOTHIN'"  UH, HUH! I SURE ENUFF DO!