Some things in life you must resist. . .

December 10, 2010




If there was ever a time I was going to fall off the wagon, it is now.

Not because it's Christmas, but because its Stressmas.

And I am a stress eater.

Every ounce of willpower I possess is being channelled into not eating those things that bring me comfort but no joy.

Shortbread cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies, gumdrop cakes, boxes of chocolates, egg nog, dips, candies, fruit cake, sugar cookies. . .

French fries with ketchup, chicken wings, nachoes dripping with cheese, bbq pulled pork sandwiches, pizza, Big Macs pumpkin pie blizzards. . .

Chips and dip, chocolate bars, ice cream, cinnamon buns oozing with icing. . .

Lebanese food.

Hummus, tzatiki, goat cheese, pita bread. . .

I want it all. 

Now.

I'm working hard, but, I don't know how much more I can stand.

My self talking self is running out of things to say.

My brain is tossing up images of all the things I shouldn't eat.

I need calm in order to fight off the decadent desires wanting to take control.

An internal war wages inside me.

Perhaps I should remove myself from the situation until this passes.

Find a stress and anxiety free space.

No vending machines.

Cafeterias.

Grocery and convenience stores.

Bakerys and fast food restaurants.

Tristan da Cunha, perhaps? Hailed as the Loneliest Island on Earth: http://www.darkroastedblend.com/2008/11/most-remote-place-on-earth.html

Here, perhaps, I would find the peace and quiet, the stress-free environment I so desperately crave.

Need.

Want.

Will get under any means possible.







Stressmas is partially fueled by end of term exams and papers and the students who have to write them.

Students who are a hair trigger away from exploding.

I know this from, a. experience, and b. because no matter how many times I say the same things over and over again, students have stopped listening.

I could be sitting in front of them, talking about cheese, whiskey and the mating habits of the grey leg goose and get as much of a response from them as if I was talking about how to present your interview and newspaper analysis findings, and how to write a proper literature review.

More probably.

The glazed over look has become temporarily their default facial feature.

Hygeine has become secondary. . .the women walk around with hair in hastily thrown together ponytails and faces devoid of makeup, having been replaced by dark circles or the flush of frustration, Uggs with sweatpants shoved in them and oversized t-shiorts becomes the outfit of choice.  The men covering their heads in baseball like hats, or knitted caps, wearing daytime clothing that bare a strinking resemblance to their pajamas.  Shaving has been tossed aside for the week old scruff.   

What really scares me are those males and females who look normal. Clean, fresh, makeuped, well dressed.

Because they're trying to convince everyone that they are okay.








Two weeks from today is Christmas Eve.

In that period, I have to get all my marking completed, grades calculated and submitted, and somewhere in there, with money I don't have, engage in Christmas shopping.

It's hard to get excited about Christmas under these conditions. 

To remember the reasons for celebrating Christmas. 

And I'm not referring to religion.

Or the nauseatingly depressing and disheartening, completely unnecessary over zealous consumer consumption that has come to characterize Christmas.

Just basic things: being nice to others, helping out if you can, choosing to not wallow in self-absorption, doing what you can to create and maintain peace, not looking for things to make into issues, tossing aside pessimism for optimism. 

Usually, by Christmas Day, I have managed to remember all of these things. 

I just hope I'm conscious enough to appreciate them.



Title Lyric: Accidents Can Happen by Sixx A.M.