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I’m a pretty calm person. Not a lot of things get me worked up or put me in a bad mood. I don’t even stress or worry about the “normal” fears some have. Deadlines? No biggie. Public speaking? Bring it on. Downvotes? Whatever.
But, there are certain times throughout a day that my body goes through a massive amount of undue stress. I don’t know why, but in these situations I’m like Kim Kardashian’s yoga pants, and I can barely hold it together.
Eating Lunch at My Desk
It’s cheap, it saves time, and I can be somewhat healthy whenever I bring lunch from home. But, without fail, every time I go to take that first bite, I hear footsteps approaching. Whether or not they are actually coming to visit my office (shitty cubicle, i.e.), it’s just the possibility of someone seeing me disgustingly shoveling my Oscar Meyer oven-roasted turkey sandwich into my mouth that sends me into a state of disrepair. And let’s not talk about the times I decide to bring chips — is it that loud to everyone else? Because it sounds like July Fourth in my own head. That has to be annoying to others. I’ve come up with several ways to combat the crunch, but I can’t help but worry. One option is to shove an obscene amount in at once while no one is around. Another is just let them sit in your mouth for a minute and slowly break down while chewing extremely soft and slow, because that’s an enjoyable way to eat your lunch.
Holding the Door
Don’t get me wrong, my momma raised me to be polite, say please and thank you, and open doors for ladies. Guys, too. But sometimes when I am walking into the hell hole that is the office on a Monday morning I just don’t want to have contact with other people. It isn’t that I don’t want to open the door; it’s that I just don’t want to have that two second interaction with you. There are many moves in the arsenal in order to get out of this situation, from slowing your gait to the speed walk. The amount of stress created from doing the mental timing to determine who will get to the door first and by how much time is exhausting. I inevitably go with the tried and true “tie my shoe” move or just pretend that something to the left caught my attention and stop to examine it until it is safe to approach. And let’s not talk about the stress added if you are walking behind a woman. Do you speed up and creep her out, or do you slow down and creep her out? Who knows.
Leaving Work
I never work 40 full hours a week. Sometimes I’m busy, sometimes I check PGP 5,000 times to see if a new wall post is up. It’s those times that I’m not busy that stress me out. My manager knows I have nothing to do, but I still worry that she’s disappointed in my lack of productivity. When the clock nears closing time (happy hour), I have an internal struggle. Do I leave at 4:50 and beat the traffic getting out of the garage? Or do I waste another 15 minutes taking a quiz to determine which Boy Meets World character I am (better not be Minkus)? Either way, I’m not doing anything productive, and I highly doubt that my boss thinks I’m a real go-getter by leaving at 5:05, but I can’t help but stress.
Traffic
Every day. .
Image via Shutterstock
Respond
walking behind a girl stress – goes through my head every day
Don’t forget about when you misjudge how far behind you someone is and end up awkwardly holding the door for 20 seconds because you can’t take it back or the door will close slowly and awkwardly close right as they get to it.
And I just don’t walk near women if I can help it, especially if no one else is around. Nah man, I’m big, black, and breathe heavily when I’m nervous. Long hallway with one woman? No thanks. Walking down the street? Let me cross and say hi to that nervous, shifty guy in a bulky coat, he looks like he could use some cheering up.
I had never appreciated having automatic doors anymore then I do after reading that internal battle.
You aren’t the only one, friend.
Walking behind girl thing in Winter time is 1000x worse when its still dark at 9am
Come on people, change your attitudes. If you hate every Monday that comes around, you end up hating one-seventh (1/7) of your life.
Juse kidding! Fuck Mondays!
You won’t last long here.
No. Sometimes you have Mondays off.