I am actually taking some days off from work just to laze around the house. I've been told to get some rest, or else my face which has all the bearings of stress and worry, is going to sag down to my armpits.
I think I handle stress quite well. I eat, I shop. And maybe I scream a little. Then I feel good again. You know.
But well, even someone like me who normally don't quite worry about how I look, still gets some uh-oh moments when a friend says my face is going south, literally. So in the last few days I did some home facials and plastered those expensive creams on my skin. Smells good, but not looking any different. Hopefull it will happen soon, or you will be talking to my armpits. Not pretty.
Staying at home is actually more difficult than it sounds. Seriously. I feel lost without my work. So lost. It's as if this is what defines me. My work has been my life. Well, not my whole life, because I have my beautiful family. But work has been my passion and I can't do this. Stay at home? Relax? Can't do it. Going nuts. Sure I moan about the stress now and then, and I gripe about the idiots I have to put up with, but maybe the old saying's right - pleasure comes with pressure. Heh.
Can't wait to get back to work.
