Perhaps the post setter at Postaday2011 reads what I write. Perhaps he has noticed that in both previous posts I have ignored his suggested topic and when he has jokingly said “maybe that won’t suit you, because your blog is about such-and-such” then I have written about the such-and-such instead.
I’d love to think so, and not just because it means that I’d have one more reader. I’d like to think that he’ll take it as a challenge, that whenever he comes up with a post topic he also think of as difficult as possible an alternative. For example, I’m hoping that he’ll have a topic like “Isn‘t science difficult?”, for instance, then he’ll say “it’s ok if your blog is about what would happen if Pavlov‘s dog met Schrodinger’s cat” and then think “hah, have a go at that one then, Tinman.”
Some days he’d win, some days I would. Certainly he’s set me a challenge today. His topic is “Do you feel stressed?” His outcard, though, is that this might not suit me if my post is about how I have just enjoyed 1000 stress-free days.
If this was a new blog and I had no regular readers I might have a go at the latter one. I might extol the virtues of herbal tea, or of listening to whale song, or of the sense of inner peace that I feel because I was able to help a Nigerian princess move her funds away from a thieving government simply by giving her my bank account details (the money will be through any day now). I could write that I’ve known since childhood that it is perfectly possible to be stress-free, since the Postman Pat song says “Pat feels he’s a really happy man”, though as I grew older I began to suspect in the back of my mind that Postman Pat is happy really because he has a brain the size of a peanut and a job for life.
But you people know me, so my claim of stresslessness would be met with scorn and derision (which would be a source of stress in itself). All my posts about my depression, my derealisation and the fact that I am on more medication than the 1968 Czechoslovakian women’s Olympic shot-put team all are evidence against me. So is the fact that my closest friend at work gave me a book on Cognitive Behaviour Therapy for Christmas (which is what a close friend does, she doesn’t give you socks, she gives you something she hopes will make you less sad).
And this is the first week of the month, and therefore my very busiest time. We have to produce a series of reports to an extremely tight deadline, so this is a week in which I usually, being full of care, can find no time to stop and stare. But this month we’re so far behind that we have absolutely no chance of making the deadline, and oddly that’s a great stress reliever. We just look at one another, shrug, think “what’s the worst that could happen?” and hump off home early. So although I am normally the essence of stressence, just as this very moment I’d answer the question “do you feel stressed?” with a firm “No.” If it weren’t for one thing.
Earlier this week I pledged to write a post every day for the rest of the year.