Stress for Breakfast

I once had a boss who liked to say he ate stress for breakfast, like it was some ridiculous badge of honor. Well, I ate stress for breakfast, lunch, and a mid-afternoon snack today, and you know what? It tasted terrible.

I had two major "filings" due today for work, and I've once again proven the theory that, no matter how much time you have to complete a project, you will always work until the very last minute. We almost made these filings a month ago and gave a big sigh of relief when we realized we had a whole extra month. "Woo hoo!" we exclaimed. "Now we don't have to rush!"

Yeah. I wish I had a time machine to go tell my 7-8-08 self, "Get it together. Let's nail this thing down so we're not racing the clock trying to get it done at the eleventh hour. Maybe this time, you'd prefer to finish something without that awful tension building up in your back so severely that you can barely move at the end of the day. Maybe you'd like not to snap at your husband when he calls in the middle of your giant C.F. to ask you a question about your bank account."

But no. Apparently, my 7-8-08 self was destined to eat stress for breakfast today.