i need a magical potion. or a drink.

It would be interesting to count up all the different types of stress that we over-programmed, over-busy, over-privileged people work ourselves into.

As I notice myself feeling like a blob of ever-changing emotions, I try to be more aware of what kinds of stress is happening to and around me, so as to be a little more sensitive and kind to myself and others. Why? Well, to paraphrase a quotation I like, always assume that others are having a worse day than you. We'd all be nicer people.

My cousin, whose lifestyle is one of lots of driving long distances alone for work and not so much reliable income from said work (note: but she has lots of fun at work, at least most of the time), has been feeling what I would term Lonely Slogging Stress. I am most definitely in the throes of Manic Stress caused by not knowing if anyone but me will be paying three people's worth of rent come Saturday (aka September 1). As well as the fact that the previous tenant came yesterday and took back her couch and other furniture we've been using. And the fact that a mechanic is going to call me sometime soon and likely tell me that fixing my brakes will cost many dollar signs.

The combination of Lonely Slogging and Manic could have made it a really bad idea for us to go to my CSA farm potluck last night. Luckily I figured (very correctly) that being out on a farm on a perfect August evening to play in the dirt and share good food and meet the lovely farmers who have been overloading me with beautiful produce all summer might actually be just the right antidote to how we were both feeling. Not to mention going to a friend's house afterward to watch Oceans 13 and play with his seven - SEVEN - tiny foster kittens, which could draw Voldemort out of a bad mood.

And that's a whole other kind of stress I'm feeling: Harry Potter Stress. I'm on number five (DO NOT spoil the ending). It took me about two years to feel ready to tackle this one, not because of the length of it but because number four took over my life. I was living in New York City at the time and consistently ended up many subway stops past home because these books get me too engrossed to notice piddly things like time and space and people around me.

The other day (when I was in Maine!) I put the book down after a sweltering morning of reading to accomplish (somewhat against my better judgment) one or two other things with my day, and checked my voicemail to find yet another voicemail from someone saying "thanks, but I found a different apartment." Of course, the stress bubbled up (more Panic than Manic at that point). And I could totally hear the little part of me that wanted to go find the friend I was visiting and wail "it's hot and nobody wants to live with me and Voldemort might be possessing Harry and...waaaaah"

I didn't. But I wanted to. Because really? Harry Potter Stress is far more enjoyable than the other kinds. And even if I could skip to the end to see how my housemate situation ends up, I'm more afraid of how that story turns out than anything Voldemort might do.

Well... mostly.