Stressbusters!

This post is going to take twice as long to type. Hamlet is currently curled up on my lap, and is resting his head on my right hand. While the left is free to type per usual, the right one is pinioned down in most devout snuggle time. It's funny how unbalanced it feels to have one hand stymied. Ah, well. Eventually he'll get annoyed enough at my constant movement that he'll adjust. Until then, the beat (on Bordentown) goes on...

There are a few things that invariably calm me when I'm stressed. The best stressbuster in the world for me is a day at the beach. From the moment I get the first smell of salty ocean air, my stress disappears. I don't know where it goes, and I don't care. I have very few thoughts or worries at the beach, outside of when to put on more sunblock and when I feel hot enough to go back into the waves. But this is a special treat. Maybe that's why it's so effective. It's something we can't do everyday, so the charm has never worn off.

Next best is writing, though sometimes when my stress mixes with depression, I can't bring myself to write. But when I do, I feel better afterward nearly every time. It could be a short poem, a blog post, or an email in which I vent to a friend.

Perhaps what has the most direct effect on my racing mind is to clean. I have always felt when my physical world is neat and in order, my mental world will follow. Even taking a few minutes to tidy my desk during a hectic work day reminds to slow down and take a moment to care for myself.

But aside from the beach, what makes me happiest? Baking. Maybe it's the satisfaction that it's something I'm good at. Maybe, too, the act of preparing ingredients, following (or diverting from) a recipe is routine and comforting. Plus, unless it's a more delicate baked good, I can usually have a delicious result in about 20 minutes,

Why am I boring you with all this? Today I left work at noon when the feeling of being overwhelmed finally bubbled over. It's been a stressful few months between work craziness and John's and my start to house hunting. (Wait, what? I know this is news to some of you--I've been blogging the whole process, but will post them all once we've found a place to call home...it'll be an interesting retrospect by then. As well as a testament to our survival.) It is absolutely the most stressful thing we have ever undertaken together, and certainly the biggest financial commitment I am endeavoring after in my own life, let alone my life together with John. So that's all I'll say on the topic for now. The hunt is still very much on the DL, but there you have--I've chucked it out into the void. Stay tuned for more.

So yes. I've been feeling close to the edge for weeks now, and today it all just came out and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I came home, had a good cry, and rested for a while. I guess I should add Hammy to the list of stressbusters. He is so intuitive when it comes to knowing when I'm upset. No sooner had I flopped, face-first, into my pillow than he was already hopping up beside me with a chirp and began nuzzling his face against mine. He then curled up with me and purred like a lawn mower.

Once all of that wallowing was done, I got up, had lunch, and started in on the organizing. I paid bills (less financial clutter...? Maybe simply less money.). I did dishes. I tidied the dining room table. Then I remembered I had buttermilk in the fridge. Scones. Scones must be made. This idea rumbled forward from the back of my mind, and I was off: I didn't have enough regular flour, nor did I have dried fruit, so I decided I'd try some savory scones we could have with dinner tonight. Done deal. Grabbed the whole wheat flour and some fresh grated cheese. Following the familiar recipe felt good, and using whole wheat flour and guessing the "right" amount of cheese felt like just the right amount of daring. Kneading out the dough and cutting small circles felt right. I even tried an egg. Why not? The result is sitting on my dining room table, waiting to be tasted.

When John gets home, we will go to the farmer's market in town, and then, finally, I can taste my little scones. With the herbed butter I made. Oh yeh...I went all out. I softened the half stick of butter I didn't use for the scones and whipped it til it was smooth. Then I added some pepper and rosemary, flavors I figured would complement the nutty whole wheat and cheese of the carbs. Rolled it into a tube using plastic wrap, and it's chilling and re-solidifying now

Looking forward, recipes on my radar to try:
1. Homemade Irish cream (that's right, bitches...makin my own Bailey's) I even have the storage vessels picked out...Kitchen Kapers, you saucy minx...
2. Homemade quick jam (no canning required...perfect for this quasi-lazy chef)
3. Blackberry-lavender scones (as soon as I find some dried lavender...)

All good things to think about! I'll try and will my mind to think of these when it wanders into the Dark Place.


And so now here I sit. Still stressed and still worried, but also a little more accomplished, and with more space on my mental hard drive. In short, it was the recharge that I needed.