There was a story on the news tonight about a woman living at 101, still playing piano for audiences and generally enjoying life. They talked to a doctor who studies the "century club," and he said that one of the big things they all have in common is the ability to let things go and not hold on to stress.
That got me to thinking about my own level of stress. I was really tweaked out for the first few months we were here. It was such an adjustment in so many ways (though oddly enough, work itself did not cause any stress to speak of). I feel much more calm and relaxed now, even though I have this little person who now depends on me. Although seriously, he's so damn cute most of the time that I can't be stressed.
Last weekend was an exception. Between Operation Nastygram and my Realtor's solution to everything being paint or a lower price, I really, really got worked up. Angry, even. I'm just so tired of more than half of my income paying for places that I don't actually live in. With any luck, we might be on the right track for Diana's, but I'm really not sure what to do with mine.
There are so many things that really smooth out life for me a bit. Coming home to a loving wife and cute little boy sure helps. Lunch with folks at work (a nice side effect of on-campus cafes), followed by my walks around campus, also keep me grounded. There's even something relaxing about driving lately, and I've spent most of my life hating commutes.
I guess it also helps to see people who can't relax, if only to realize you don't want to be that person. Time moves so quickly. Very little is accomplished by letting the world get to you.
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