AOSHQ On Dealing With Stress

Good Day to you, Morons, Moronettes, and all you drooling lovable pudding-eaters with your sneakers on the wrong feet.

As you all know, here at the 'Q, we usually depend on Val-U-Rite 'irregular' vodka and hobo-killin' to take care of any stress issues that may arise in the course of our daily meanderings.

However, sometimes the life's blood of a drifter slithering through our fingers in big wet chunky gobbets just isn't enough to calm us or take our worry away.

Let's be realistic; life has gotten difficult for many, many American working men and women. I'm sure there's plenty of tales of woe right here on this very blog. I have a couple of friends who are very, very, very tense right now. One of them is a working mom whose office staff has been pared back to the point where she feels that the world is resting on her shoulders. The other is the backbone of her family, who recently lost her (not-great paying) job and is trying to struggle along on some pretty paltry unemployment dough.

These are tense times. This post is dedicated to all you worried people, and to my friends Tammy and Lisa.

Most of us are probably familiar with these mental exercises that help affirm us and provide a healthy outlook.

I have a relaxing and enjoyable stress-reduction exercise for you under the break, here. Please consider it a gift from the Ace of Spades family, to yours.

After reading this, close your eyes and do the following:

Take a few deep, cleansing breaths.
Imagine yourself in a lovely natural setting of your own preference. It is a beautiful day. See your surroundings. The sky is blue, with just a few fluffy white clouds. You are seated comfortably and the sun is warming your skin.

Good.

Now I want you to think about all your stress, all your problems, the needs of your family, and all the difficulty you are having with other people, too. Imagine all of this taking the form of a bird. A really huge bird.

This bird is a gigantic ugly vulture, bigger than you, perched on your wretched shoulders like a malevolent spirit. Take a few moments to feel the weight on your shoulders, literally oppressing you. It is painful and your spine feels ready to crack from the weight. This ugly motherfucker's loathsome and filthy claws are digging into your neck, it is chuckling hideously, and you feel nauseated and wracked with unutterable fear.

Good. You're doing great.
Take a few short, shallow gulps for air.

The vulture's beak represents your own worry. The beast is now beginning to drag its beak, crusty and polluted, across your forehead, wickedly teasing you. This leaves stinging scratches in your skin, which further excite the bird's attention.

Imagine your bowels let go. Good.
Take in the whole scene. You are sitting in a pile of your own stinking waste while a putrid hellbound creature prepares to take you apart piece by quivering piece. Oh, and it's a gorgeous day outside. Nice little breeze is kicking up. Why not, right? At least it's not raining.

If you are on heart medication, place it under your tongue now and catch your breath to let the hysteria abate a bit.
Good.

The beak (which represents worry) now makes its initial foray into your flesh. It slams into the top of your eyesocket, bursting through your skin and mashing the soft flesh underneath. The foul, reeking beak continues hammering into your skull, pulling out mashed stringy bits of gore. Your eyeball is hanging wetly against your cheek, suspended at the end of some long piece of red goo. You know you are going to die, and you begin screaming, screaming, screaming in vain.

Take a breath.
Good.

Look; how bad is your day, really? Think about it.

posted by Laura. at 10:43 AM

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