The price of Stress.

Stress is a fireball that burns holes everywhere it hits, including the pocket.

Work has kept me on my toes all month (and year, and the year before), and stress sucked all my creative juices that the only thing I write now is Code. The pressure to drag myself into unreasonable deadlines manifests itself into many glorious ways, like annoying everyone around on purpose. Anyone trying to get in my way gets showered with words I have handpicked to celebrate the auspicious occasion of my stressful life.  So one fine morning, the spouse became the victim and then what happened next, sky-rocketed our family expense graph out of the frame.

I went straight to the jewelry shop and bought that gold pendant I’d been eyeing for quite some time. Someone is legally available to be annoyed by me, so why should we waste the opportunity? So Ms. Stress heaved a sigh of relief and evil-laughed at the spouse. This laugh later echoed into my entire month as it was just one week into September and I had already depleted all resources. Gold is too costly to be bought at the spur of a moment, my dear friends and Ms. Stress is pure evil. Coming to think of it, I could have bought diamonds, at least I dint do that right?

The same week, I had further differences within my work circles and lost my sanity yet again. This time I headed to the mall and bought a top. There was a sale and the top was beautiful. So now it is evident that the finances of my family rest solely on the demeanor of my colleagues. After all the hasty purchases I made, I never felt guilty for what I bought. The pendant looks so lovely that any female with a good sense would appreciate me for the classy buy. Actually they’d ask me what I drank before heading to buy it rather than whether I was really stressed ;-)

Image Courtesy: Here

 

Apart from money, there are other ways one pays for being stressed. I just have to run my fingers through my head once, and voila ! there’s a bunch of hair in my hand! One pays for stress with hair. Like I wrote earlier, my parlor lady has slashed her prices for hair treatments specifically for me, as she does not have to work too hard in my case. My friend said she could see my scalp from the elevator when I was climbing the stairs. There is light reflecting from my scalp in some of my selfies. So in the weekend I headed to the hairstylist again and asked her whether there is any way to not let the world know that I have no hair. She nearly cried and gave me a pretty reasonable haircut, but yeah the scalp can still be seen. And you who saw it from the elevator – get a life!

Sigh, and end of day when I go home, hair or no hair, there is my little son-shine, who can wipe out any stress effortlessly. ‘Amma you’re my best friend’ he said-just before revealing that he lost his new pencil, eraser, color pencil pouch and English notebook all on the same day.

But, who cares! I am his best friend yoohoo!

Hair and Teeth Fiasco

Life sometimes gets ridiculous to the point that we actually pay people to insult us. Every person we pay for any services whatsoever, feel the need to pass on those precious pearls of wisdom, also known as free advice. Truth be told, no one appreciates a third person holding a magnifying mirror to our flaws.

So of late, my dentist and hair stylist have collectively gone on a mission to embarrass me. One busy day I was munching some nuts at work, when a smart nut felt adventurous and decided to explore the remotest gap within my tooth. I tried to push it out using my tongue, which got bruised in the process. Later 562 toothpicks failed in the same mission. Finally I was forced to book an appointment with my dentist, whom I was trying to avoid for the past few months. My teeth had other plans though.

She has the most amazing chair at her office. This chair, almost like a modified recliner, which has everything from a mirror to lights to a multi-purpose mini table attached to it, is one of the reasons I go to her. She was happy to see me; she knew the history behind every one of my teeth, as she has pulled out few and performed root canal in others. All my teeth seemed to say hi to her. She examined my tooth which had the embedded nut, and unleashed her sharp weapons to start excavation which lasted a few minutes until the nut gave up and decided to come out.

She then said ‘Anita you need to get it filled, else the same can happen again’.

I asked ‘This one?’ pointing to the tooth which just parted with the nut.

She replied ‘Honestly, if you ask me, it is not just this tooth. There are a multitude of other teeth which needs to be filled’.

Her assistant stifled a laugh. Until then, that dude was peeping into my mouth as though it had a hidden treasure deep inside.

‘Okay’, I mumbled.

Dentists are brutally honest, I tell you. And about this dude who laughed. I hope he finds his treasure somewhere else.

Later in the week there was an official event for which I had to blow dry my hair.  I called the stylist and got an appointment. I have been going to her for a long time and she is aware of the fact that I used to have thick voluminous hair once upon a time. I sat on her chair. Earlier she used to part my hair into three or four sections and blow dry each. Something like a divide and rule process. She combed and ran her fingers through my hair and gasped, ‘What happened to your hair?’ with an exasperated expression.

Image Courtesy: Here

I felt I owed her an explanation even though it was my hair , it rests on my head and it carries the DNA of my family. I explained that my project gave me no time to come home, forget maintaining hair and skin. She took a smaller comb and as usual divided my scalp into four sections. She clipped the first section only to realize that the other sections were not needed. Meanwhile her floor was full of my hair from the first and only section. “Two more sessions like this and you will be bald” she happily warned me. Actually it was my fault to think that my hair qualified for blow drying. She did not charge me at a usual rate, and added

 “For your hair you can pay half or less for any hair services”.

Yeah. Even the dentist may say the same thing soon once all my teeth are extracted.

How much is too much?

I dint update my blog in the month of April, considering the fact that  I had updated twice the month I gave birth in 2011. No I did not give birth to quadruplets in April, just that some software projects sucked the life out of me and is only a tad less uncomfortable than childbirth.

Before I go into whine mode let me say that I love my job, colleagues and the space and recognition I get professionally. I am very much loved around here and get to laugh a lot. I love to write software codes, my work is not repetitive, I get to face a lot of challenges, my boss is cool and I feel blessed by all this.

That was a disclaimer that leads to the fact that in IT, one is expected to work regardless of time of the day, day of the week, gender, marital status, weather conditions, earthquake alerts, flood, political situations, bad health and the fact that you are a human being. I haven’t had a proper weekend in a long time and now I am in a ridiculous situation in which I am wondering what I did on weekends when I had them.

 

To be honest, working on weekends and then going back to work when the week starts feels MEH.  Meh is an understatement, actually. Man there should be a day when one is not expected to wake up and show up, right? A day I can sleep peacefully until I rise on my own, without any evil external forces trying to barge into my happiness. By evil external forces, I mean my family. Honestly, I love my family but my idea of ‘taking an off’ or ‘letting my hair down’ or ‘taking a break’ involves switching off the wifi and data, and lazing on the couch watching TV or sleeping ALONE without any disturbance whatsoever. It is completely harmless right? I am not asking anything of anybody.

 I am not a foodie, nor do I feel hungry every now and then. Neither am I a cleanliness freak so I don’t shower five times on a weekend. I don’t sing, dance or make noise.I don’t harm anyone on purpose. I am not crazy about gold, diamonds, cars or property (not because I don’t have the money).  I don’t pollute the environment in any way nor do I use any non-renewable resources. I am highly eco-friendly. I just want to do nothing on the sofa.



This is another idea of "taking a break!"
Image Courtesy: Here

Not getting ten official calls less than five minutes is luxury. Not having to check emails and not having to reply to them with a solution in less than an hour is luxury. Sleeping knowing that the alarm is off for the next morning is luxury. Peace is expensive. Being able to laugh to Tom and Jerry cartoons is luxury. Sigh.

My luxury may not be your luxury, but my idea of taking a break is very reasonable. I want to be left alone with TV, sofa and electricity to run the AC as it is freaking hot here. Oh and some wine would be good. And a Thai masseuse. And a Bose speaker that plays my favorite songs on loop.

Is this too much to ask?