Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Am I Just A Little Stressed?

I am trying to keep my brain sharp amidst the hubbub of household chores and using the thesaurus so much that I think it's become sentient (alert, cognizant, knowing) and is signing a petition to unionize.

Keeping my mind sharp mostly consists of listening to the radio talk shows that bore my children to death while I throw together yet another dinner involving pasta. I have also read several books lately, but I can't claim that they've been the sort that do more than amuse.

Yet my brain is so sharp that it sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night to remind me to worry about things. A Strident Little Voice in my head (a voice that sounds suspiciously like my scary first-grade teacher) starts repeating over and over that the most important thing in the universe to stress about RIGHT NOW is (for instance) that I get those new insurance cards into the vehicles right away. I'm ambushed, you see, being stuck in my most helpless state of mind. After a while, my gullible Subconscious Mind, bored of manufacturing visuals to explain the random trivia and movie clips in my head, has opened the door to the Strident Little Voice, and after listening to its impassioned plea for a while, becomes absolutely convinced that getting those insurance cards into the vehicles is the only thing that will save the world from certain and sure destruction. My Subconscious Mind then starts pushing all the emergency buttons randomly in a frantic state of alarm, setting off the bells and sirens of Fight or Flight. The horrific din eventually rouses my Logical Mind, which turns over sleepily and demands to know the reason for the noise, then tells the Subconscious Mind to calm down and shut up: we'll all get those insurance cards into the vehicles when we get up in the morning. No need to keep going on like that when it's only 4:30 am . But the Subconscious Mind, already in a state of panic and goaded by the Strident Little Voice, is not mollified so easily. For another hour, at least, it keeps screaming and hollering. I wake up grumpy and out of sorts and start looking for those expletive insurance cards.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who deals with this situation. If I am, maybe I need some sort of medication.