1. I desperately need to exercise, but I don’t want to do it.
It’s probably more accurate to say that I want to exercise to let off some steam, but I dread it and have to force myself to go because I know that my body is so tightly wound that every running step will be an unpleasant pounding.
2. I dig my heels in to try to control things.
Not everything – just the fights I am pretty confident I can win. Normally I’m a peacemaker and am willing to let things go, even if I disagree, as long as it’s not something of vital importance to me and mine. When I’m maxed out on stress, I find it difficult to let things go.
3. I feel the house must be clean.
Not spotless, sterile clean. Absence-of-random-clutter clean. When I’m stressed my mind is a cluttered mess, and physical clutter seems to make it worse.
4. I decide I need a complete wardrobe overhaul.
This one is particularly ironic, because I am that rare type of woman who hates clothes shopping. I determine that most of what I own must go and I need to pare down to a small capsule of essentials. I’m pretty sure this is a good idea all the time, but it only floats to the top when I’m stressed.
5. Minor annoyances become major issues (part 1).
Not unlike the wardrobe urge to purge above, I get a similar feeling about my house. All The Things that bug me must be changed! For instance, the worn out sofa sleeper with the torn upholstery in the spare room that my parents not-really-kidding joke about how uncomfortable it is? It needs to go. And I need a daybed with a pop-up trundle to replace it. Today.
6. Minor annoyances become major issues (part 2).
Does the fact that Nathan is not only not fully potty trained yet, but has basically quit going potty altogether qualify as a minor annoyance? I’d say that’s borderline major at this point. How about his insistence that the iPad be turned up to full volume at all times? Yes? Good. I’m ready to throw the iPad out the car window on our next road trip up I-65.