Stressmes

Life’s Noise Won’t Shut Up, and Neither Will I

All I want is some peace. Is that too much to ask? Just five minutes without someone needing something, something breaking, or someone whining about something broken. I’m not talking about enlightenment here, just some quiet time to sit, maybe stare at a wall, and hear my own thoughts for once.

But life? Life says, “Nope, not today.”

Morning Madness: The Real Wake-Up Call

Our kid sleeps pretty well through the night—small miracles, I guess. But mornings? Oh, mornings are when the stressmes cranks it up to eleven. She’s a night owl, full stop. And school mornings on school days? That’s where the real circus begins.

Picture this: you’re a zombie, barely functioning, your brain operating on the fumes of last night’s too-short sleep. Coffee? Not even brewed yet. And then you’ve got to face the ultimate boss battle—a cranky kid who doesn’t want to get up. It’s like waking the dead, except this particular ghoul has opinions about breakfast and a strong desire to stay in bed.

And school? Oh, school’s not right around the corner, oh no. That would be too easy. It’s a solid 30-minute commute, which means every groggy second counts. There’s no time for slow negotiations or leisurely wake-ups. You’re fumbling through the morning routine like a contestant on a game show you never signed up for. Get dressed, brush teeth. eat something. Find shoes. “Why can’t you find your shoes? They’re always in the same place!” You’d think after all this time, we’d have a system.

By the time you’re out the door, the the bus is late as usual adding some extra frustration. You’re not even halfway to school, and you’re already fantasizing about crawling back into bed. But nope. There’s work waiting, bills to pay, and another round of stressmes tomorrow.

And somehow, in all this chaos, you catch a glimpse of her on a noisy bus—half-awake, in her deep thoughts, leaning against your shoulder. You take a deep breath and think, “This is the life I signed up for, isn’t it?”

Yeah. It is. And somehow, you’ll make it through.

Kid Logic is Chaos

Listen, I love my kid. I do. But let me tell you, kids have the survival instincts of a reckless squirrel. The second you sit down, they appear, like some needy ghost haunting your coffee break. “I’m hungry.” “I’m thirsty.” “Can I paint the wall blue?” No, kid. You can’t. But thanks for asking while I was mid-sip, so I can now enjoy lukewarm coffee, my favorite beverage.

And it’s not just the kid. It’s the whole unit. Family life is one endless group project where you’re the only one who cares about the deadline. Someone’s gotta do the shopping, cook the food, fix the plumbing, and find time to answer existential questions like, “Why do we have so many bills?” or “When did I last vacuum under the couch?” Last year...

Let’s Talk About Work...Or Not

Work stress, life stress—it all blends into one big ball of “I can’t.” Deadlines pile up like laundry, and just when you think you’ve got a handle on it, someone throws in a wrench. Or better yet, an email titled “Urgent.” Funny thing—everything’s urgent except my need for a nap.

Everyone tells you to take care of yourself. “Try yoga,” they say. “Have a bubble bath.” Oh, sure, let me just pencil that in between cleaning yogurt off the dog and answering, “Why is the sky blue?” for the hundredth time. Self-care’s a scam, anyway. Life’s a treadmill or better yet a damn mixed martial arts match with no off button, and all you can do is hope you don’t fall and get spit out like a piece of gum.

But You Know What?

Sometimes—sometimes—there’s a crack in the stressmes. A little moment where you see what it’s all about. Like when your kid passes out on your lap, snoring like an old man, and you realize, for once, nobody needs anything. Or when you and your partner laugh at something stupid, like two survivors of a terrible storm.

It’s messy, chaotic, and loud as hell. But it’s life. And yeah, I’m stressed. And tired. And mildly caffeinated. But for better or worse, I’m still here, wading through the mess, hoping one day the circus will pack up and leave. Until then, pass the coffee.