Stress… That Ugly Stress

Posted by admin - 24/07/13 at 09:07 am

Bill slammed the door on his way in the house, turned the corner and met Louise in the hallway.
She took one glance at him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked right away.

“I’m just so stressed out.” Bill responded. “I don’t have time to do anything.  Work is killing me. I have too many committee meetings.”
He put his hands on her shoulders.
“I haven’t spent enough attention on you—and to top it off, I think I’m catching a cold.”
He waited a beat.
“Other than that,” he tacked on, “life’s grand.”

“You know we have dinner with Sam and Susie tonight, right?” she reminded him.
“That’s great.” He shook his head and went on.
“I mean, I want to see them and all,” he paused. “I’m just so beat. Do we have to?”
”Yes, we have to,” she asserted. “Don’t worry.  You’ll perk up.  You always do.”

They met Sam and Susie at the restaurant, at their favorite corner table.
“You don’t look so good, bro’,” Sam said to his best friend. “In fact, you look downright bad.”
“Stress, Sam, same ol’, same ol’,” Bill retorted. “Too much junk and I might be getting sick.”
“Man, you need to chill out.” Sam pushed out a chair. “Take a seat and relax.”

Susie interjected.
“It’s probably the stress that’s making you sick—the universe’s way of telling you to slow down.”
Louise nodded her head.
“I’ve tried to tell him that,” she muttered. “He won’t listen.”
Sam slapped his buddy on the back.
“Louise is right, ol’ pal.” Sam stifled a chuckle. “Stress will take you out.”
“That’s so much gobbledygook,” Bill argued. “I just have a lot on my plate right now.  I need a vacation.”

“You’d probably get sick the first day you were there, Bill,” Sam contended. “Stressed out as you are, weak as you are, the minute you relaxed, you’d get nailed.  Used to happen to me every year—spent the first half of vacation in bed.”
“Well, I gotta’ do something,” Bill insisted. “The current plan is not working.”

“Take a couple of deep breaths.  Let some of that stuff go.”
Sam smiled and continued.
“What could possibly be more important than your health?  You’re no good to anybody if you’re sick. In fact, you’re really kind of a pain.”
Bill threw his hand up.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know all that. Cut me a little slack.”
“Wish I could do that, pal,” Sam pushed. “You’re too important to me—and a bunch of other people as well.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Bill’s tone turned a bit defensive.

“Tell me your problems, Bill,” Sam grinned. “I got all night.”
For the first time, Bill grinned back at him.
“You look better already, brother,” Sam laughed. “And you haven’t even started venting.”

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