Reduce Stress Instantly, The Flying Lawn Chair Incident

Stress. The Flying Lawn Chair Incident. How to Save Time Instantly.

Dateline: DFW Airport International Branch Headquarters, chair in the corner, face to the wall.

First, I’d like to apologize to those unfortunate passengers on flights with me this weekend. If you are thinking, “Maybe I was on a plane with her and I didn’t know it,” you were not. If you recall a short blond woman, her agonized face mashed into the window, who seemed determined to cough up her lungs, or heard one side of the 737 you were in crackle and thunder, just maybe you were. I’m very, very sorry.

Want to save yourself a lot of stress and lower your personal “annoying-to-others” score? It’s really not that tough. Technically. Technically, like jumping rope for five minutes a day can change your life—technically.

To save time and stress, all you have to do is pass out a little permission and decide:

Other people get to do what they do. They do not require my agreement. My opinion is not important, nor does it make any sense for me to insist on telling people what I think of what other people do. To comment takes time and it’s annoying, except to those very few godlike beings who agree with everything I think about people who aren’t like us. Okay, enough with the sermon.

The following account is true. A retired weatherman had an idea how he could make use of several weather balloons cluttering up his garage and change the face of aviation as we know it. First he tied four balloons to an aluminum and plastic weave lawn chair. Next he strapped himself in. Then he popped the launch cords on the balloons. Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . LIFT OFF!

Yeah, baby. We are flying now. Mostly we are tumbling end-over-end through the first ten thousand feet. “Oh, what a beautiful blue sky–whoa, there’s my house! Oh, what a beautiful blue sky–whoa, there’s Chicago!” The view went from spectacular to, well, nauseating. But the Man Who Launched His Lawn Chair (MWLLC) was having a ball. Airport radars spotted an unidentified blip on their radar screens. News syndicates were alerted. Planes were diverted. Non-believers were converted. (Sorry, like the MWLLC, I couldn’t stop myself.)

The MWLLC’s wife wrung her hands, though when reporters asked her if she was surprised at her husband’s antics, she admitted such projects on slow summer afternoons were nothing new for her husband. She also admitted the MWLLC had stopped telling her his plans since she’d taken to calling the police and asking the procedures for getting a spouse committed.

What’s the point of this tale? As you read, did any part of you think…What kind of crazy person does something like that?

To instantly reduce stress, let go and let other people have fun. Enjoy their enjoying. You’d think we’d all be savvy on this strategy, but such is not the case. At least not for me and, unless you are Dr. L from the radio who makes no wrong moves, like me, you fall into the boring trap of questioning why other people enjoy activities and possessions you do not. And, if you are like me, when you ask this question, your tone informs listeners that, unlike myself, people are crazy and not as wise as I am if they:

Get up at 2 a.m. on Black Friday. Deep fry their turkey. Don’t deep fry their turkey. Salt their food before tasting it. Buy expensive cars. Spank their kids. Don’t spank their kids. Put up an artificial tree. Spend a day finding a real tree. Watch that stupid television show. Enjoy mincemeat pie. Watch NASCAR, golf, basketball, baseball, fake-real television families, or prison shows. Try to buy love by giving expensive Christmas presents. Are too cheap to give expensive Christmas presents. Are foolish enough to take out a second mortgage to send their child to private college. Are selfish enough to refuse to take out a second mortgage to send their child to private college.

You’ve got the picture. I know. Ouch. Ouch. Guilty. Guilty. One of the elements of psychology that continuously amazes me is how hard and complicated something as simple as enjoying the moment really is.

About the promised Triple Stuffed Turkey Recipe? Next year when I can breathe like a normal person again. Coming: Unique Gifts Only You Can Give.

Stress. Perception and “The Case of the Well-Shaved Woman”

Stress and Anxiety at the Pool

Dateline: San Antonio MiTierra International Branch Office. Home of most beautiful bar and an incredible bakery. Working with mariachis and tacos. Life is good.

The paper this morning had a letter from a woman who was appalled, very appalled. Appalled enough to take some serious action.  Those of us in Texas have suffered a drought over the summer leading to watering restrictions of various sorts and lots of conversation.

The Appalled Lady (AL) was writing to inform the city of a natural resources problem that, perhaps, the rest of us didn’t know about. Austin, Texas is the home of a fabulous natural swimming area amid the granite—Barton Springs. AL happened to be in the showers at Barton Springs when she spotted the . . . Degenerate Water Wasters (DWWs).

AP was actually on her way home when the dastardly deed was thrown in her face. Well, not exactly “thrown.”  Okay, to be honest, AP only overheard the crimes committed against humanity.

As AP reported, one woman took seven minutes shaving her legs in the shower.  Another woman flushed twice. Something must e done!

What we pay attention to in our world, can make life lovely or just kind of constantly irritating. But, you say, while it’s true that a person can change her interpretation of what she sees, but not what she sees. Actually you can. What you “see” is a reflection of your thoughts, the mindset you bring to the situation.

This can get scary in a hurry when it comes to family and marriage. What happens if you decide your spouse is lazy?  A control freak?  Not as smart as you?  Isn’t capable of love? Is selfish?  Who will be the person who sits down to supper across the table from you?  Which characteristics of your spouse are likely to grow?

What happens if you decide a family member is hopeless?  A political nut?  Pushy? A loser? Stuck up? What happens when you sit down to Thanksgiving dinner surrounded by these troublesome people?

What happens if Appalled Lady isn’t looking for Degenerate Water Wasters?  What happens if she notices the culprits, then decides to pay attention trying to remember the lyrics of Delta Dawn as she shares her passion as a shower singer?

Stress and the Man-Woman Thing

One study had college females pass out exams to large auditoriums of graduate students. Each participant first took a test that showed the female’s level of comfort with men. After she had handed out the exams, the researcher simply asked her to
estimate the percentage of men and women in the class. The young women who were
fearful of men or thought that men were mysterious and very different from women regularly over-estimated the number of men in the class.

Yeah, yeah. I get it. I realize that by pointing out the Appalled Woman…I’m put her in my world when I didn’t have to pay attention.

Next: The Man Who Tried to Train the Gardener.

Word to Dr. Drew: Don’t think you have to run the line, “Do Not Do This At Home” when showing the acrobats of Cirque Cirque du Soleil.  I’m pretty sure we’d figure that out 25 seconds into our plan to practice for a big show tryout.

Stress, Addiction, Humility, and the “Stolen Identity Incident”

Stress, Addiction, and the “Stolen Identity Incident”

Dateline: San Antonio River Walk International Branch Office. One block over, on March 6, 1836, all the well-armed and well-dressed Mexicans in the world, stormed the Alamo killing everyone inside.  Newspapers in the weeks following ran stories encouraging settlers to “Come on down!” As one of those news articles in the Texas State Library says, “Texas is still a great opportunity for you and your family. The report claiming that the men in the Alamo were killed is a false rumor, propaganda sent out by politicians.”  Sigh. Things haven’t changed much.

In thinking about stress management and addiction, I realized it was time for the periodic pledge, the pledge that can eliminate loads of stress right off the top.

The pledge: I can be as big an idiot as anyone else. Even as big an idiot as the people I’m calling idiots. Whew. What a relief not to have to go through the world upset when people don’t do things the way I do, or more honestly, the way I think they should do them.

My special person and I were married in Mexico City and before you pull up lofty visions of the “destination” weddings where the couple or parents rent a hotel for a weekend and fly in two hundred of their closest friends to Paris or Tahiti, the event included the Registro Civil, the two of us, and the taxi driver as a witness.  He was a graduate student and I was a college junior though not the typical age of that group due to several spectacular detours.

In other words. We had no money. Before our big adventure,we embraced our American citizenship and took out a Mastercard. The trip was great, Acapulco, villages, historicalcities. A good time was had by all. The trouble started when we received our Mastercard bill which was a huge amount way beyond our own frugal spending.Clearly, the credit card number had been stolen and whoever took it charged everythingin sight knowing once they were caught the party was over.

Incensed, we marched down to the bank issuing the card and met with the head of the fraud department who was very sympathetic and assured us the bank would help find the culprit. All we had to do was sit down at the computer screen and review the charges marking the ones we did not make. Much relieved we set to work. Thirty minutes later we waited until the fraud director was away from her desk, then we ducked our heads and sneaked quietly to the elevator and out of there.

Repeat after me: “I can be as big an idiot…”

For those who honestly believe they are not subject to all the craziness of being human, there’s always Dr.Laura who knows all.

For me, it’s a comfort to recognize we’re all nuts.

Love and Stress in Las Vegas, A Soap Opera in Four Parts

Dateline:  Las Vegas Hilton Branch Office and Showgirl Headquarters, no one under six foot need apply. Which is the only thing holding me back from making money on my looks and high kick skills and why I am sequestered in the furthest booth in the Grand Buffet Hall. Yep, that’s me. The be-speckled blond chick in the over-stuffed cargo shorts behind the computer and the foot-high pile of shrimp shells.

Have you ever gotten high? …because someone gave you a compliment?

Have you ever given up a dream? … because someone else thought it was a dumb idea?

Have you ever said you enjoyed an activity? …to keep someone interested?

Have you ever been unable to stop a self-destructive habit? …and paid a terrible price?

Have you ever been unable to stand up to a person you cared about caught in an addiction? …and ended up in trouble yourself?

The following story is true and related with permission of the patient, Mrs. Travis. Names and details have been changed to protect her identity.

Fusion vs. Self: When decisions are made, not out of one’s best thinking, but to save a relationship or to keep a partner happy. Fusion is natural and is part of all close relationships. The problem comes in when a person with a shaky SELF matches up with a person and goes along out of fear to stand alone. The problem comes in when a person with an equally shaky SELF uses fear and threatening behavior to convince the other not to disagree with decisions when the decisions would be obviously absurd to someone outside the relationship.

Mrs. Travis called for an appointment in January with some questions regarding dealing with her three young children when she packed them up and left their father.She explained that she still loved her husband. Their marriage had been great until two years ago when it fell apart in a hurry.

The Inciting (exciting) Incident. All Self Doubts and Anxieties Are Gone

Stress Management Goes Wrong

Two years ago, the couple had gone to a conference in Las Vegas. Mr. Travis, whose only experience with gambling had been years ago when he was stationed in Malasia with the Navy. When he thought about those free and easy days being young and single and successful in dice games, he had a rush of good feelings.

An avid fan of professional football, Mr. Travis was pleased that he could bet on teams combining his remembered good times with sports. As he was knew alot about the National Football League, he thought he knew more than your average bettors.

He made two bets and won them both. He felt the problems of parenthood, marriage and career slip away. Mr. Travis felt better than he had in a very long time.

Episode Two: All I Want Is To Feel the Way I Felt When I Was First in Love

Stress, So You Think Crashing One Wedding Was Rude?

Stress, Runaway Pooch Crashes Five Star Wedding !

Dateline: Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Although the Sea of Cortez bears his name, it was not Hernan Cortez, but his navigator, who is credited with discovering Cabo San Lucas in 1537. Cabo San Lucas and Cabo San Jose soon became a busy stopovers for pirates.

What’s the Difference Between…Breaking Out of “Group Think Stress” and Just Being Annoying?  The trick is considering other people without over-considering them. 

Is the guy who insists on mowing the lawn in his birthday suit a free thinker or an unpleasant surprise?  Is the guy who refuses to shut down his cell phone and therefore prevents the flight from taking off…merely side-stepping ‘group think’?

And that woman in the bathing suit and the towel on her head that crashed the black-tie wedding reception? 

Dateline:  Dallas, Texas. Lincoln Center Hilton.

Finishing a swim, I’d taken Shrinker, our ancient, crippled shih tzu down for a stumble in the grass around the big fancy pool at the big fancy hotel hoping for a productive result.  I didn’t need a leash as Shrinker was as slow as certain relatives are reaching for their wallets.  Since her stroke, she’ambled sort of sideways making about a yard a minute. The pool grass part hadn’t been totally successful, but as we had group dinner plans, I was in a bit of a rush to get dressed. I carried the old sweetie to the bank of elevators in the center of the lobby and set her down to punch the button.  The left side of the main hall opened into a ballroom from which orchestra music and wonderful food smells wafted. At the far side of the ballroom the bride and groom were behind a magnificent candle laden table making a toast.

Which is when it happened.  When the formerly snail-paced Shrinker Dog caught the smell of sizzling steak. She shot from my between my ankles and into the ballroom going all-out, knowing when I caught up with her, all hope of garnering steak was gone.

What did I do?  What could I do?  I centered my flip-flops, re-wrapped the too-large towel around my dripping head, and flung my bathing-suited self into the party. Stroke or no stroke, sweet babe was all woman when it came to food. She rocketed in her side-ways gait across the dance floor scattering guests. Then she dove under the covered white table leaving me stupidity flopping around trying to find her. Sophisticated people glared, candles were grabbed, I heard lenses come off video cameras.  I pretended I was having an instant onset of a serious mental disorder characterized by babbling.  I kept my head down as I flushed out the Shrinker dog who bounded away and tacked her way back across the dance floor…leaving little presents, quickly picked up by men in tuxedos. Thus, a couple of good things came out of the event.  My trip down to the grass was successful after all and, having kept my head down, I’d managed to stay anonymous.

Waiting for the elevator when we returned with friends around midnight, a well-dressed man and woman sidled up. At first the man looked confused.  Then not so much.  “I know you!” he said, pointing a knowing and sophisticated finger.  “You’re the woman with the dog!”

The trick is considering other people without over-considering them.  The husband alerting his new bride not to use her fingers on her cake…could have been concerned about bothering the other guests could possibly, maybe, sort of been showing a bit of over-concern for the guests. Of course, marriage means “I love-you-your-perfect-except-for-these-few-hundred-little-things-you-must-change-if-I-am-to-be-kept-comfortable.”  And, I must not be uncomfortable, ever. That’s the deal.

Say, what? What goes both ways?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stress. The Frog Who Flung Himself Off the Mountain

Dateline: Lost in phone tree hell. Everyone’s been here. I see your tracks, the bloody scratches on the walls made when you tried to escape to the world of real people.

The Goal: The less you take personally in your life, the better life you will have. Thus, our goal on this site is to learn ways to live more easily and joyfully in this world. One more segment in the true life experience of a psychologist taking Dell Corporation personally.

There’s a highland jungle frog about the size of a nickel. His only means of protection is to hop, which often is not sufficient to escape his enemies. His nature is to fight and hop with everything he has, then, if these efforts fail, he clinches his little legs to his sides and throws himself off the mountain.

I now understand the wisdom of the highland jungle frog.

Set-up. To endure the following conclusion to a sad tale of society insanity, you will need to catch up reading part one and part two.

As we return to the Day of Dell, I have just been bumped out of regular Customer Service into the realm of the Executive Resolution Specialist. Executive Resolution Specialist Guy thanks me for choosing Dell and asks me to give him my name, date of birth, and the odds on Texas winning the National Football Championship. He apologizes for the day I have wasted on the phone and assures me he will solve the problem. Sigh of relief. Executive Resolution Specialist Guy puts me on hold.

He returns to the call, has the correct order, and asks for my credit card number, the only number Dell has been receptive to all day. The Executive Resolution Specialist pauses. It is that this juncture that I lose it at a psycho level.

In my family psycho enters the picture when money or getting the best deal comes into the discussion. The family crest is an emblem with the words: WE PAY OUR BILLS. In other families children grow up with warm stories of family holidays and traditions passed down from one happy generation to the next. In my family the stories are about how my predecessors made it through the depression by growing their own food in the backyard and going without shoes.

Thus–when the beast bearing the name Executive Resolution Specialist said the kryptonite words: “Ma’am your credit card has been declined,”…well, given the previous seven hours on the phone…I earthquake level lost it. I regret being in one of my favorite restaurants at that point because I would have liked to return.

We grew up in a cash up front atmosphere where paying interest or a late fee would be equal to armed robbery. Okay maybe equal to burning down a shed. Or amputating one of your own toes.

Remember the ole Pseudo Self? That part of who you are that’s negotiable depending on what other people think of you? My Pseudo Self is constructed such that when these words are said, “Your credit card has been declined” what I hear is, “Contrary to the image you give to the rest of the world…you are a DEADBEAT. You WILL go to prison!”

In response to being humiliated (strictly the realm of the pseudo self since you can only humiliate yourself) I launched a roaring rebuttal insisting that the Dell Executive Level Problem Resolver was WRONG WRONG WRONG. I went on to relate my life history as a faithful bill payer and threw around all sorts of high-sounding numbers regarding spending limits to make an impression and clarify my status in the world. I’m not saying I was upset, but one of the waiters came over and slipped a napkin into my view. A napkin that read, “Don’t worry about your check. You don’t owe us anything.”  I assume he meant the free meal as a parting gift.

The corker?  Still in a self-righteous melt-down, I called American Express where I was informed that Dell Executive Level Problem Resolver was RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT. Someone had called into American Express automated services and reported my card number as lost or stolen.  Yep. Screwed again in phone tree hell. And, now I sorta needed to call Dell back. I’m thinking put a towel over the phone and fake symptoms of a recent stroke.

 

 

 

 

 

Swinging on the Limbs of Phone Trees. Stress, Part 3

Dateline:  Left hand on one phone tree limb…Right hand gripping another tree limb…oops.

PART THREE.  Hour Three. You will not be able to properly feel my pain or find some shred of forgiveness for my behavior unless you have read Parts One and Two of my torture history.

Hour Three in Phone Tree Stress

Now I’m bumped up to Level Three Customer Service since my request is
apparently too complicated for the first two levels. Level Three Customer
Service Guy thanks me for choosing Dell and asks me to give him all my
information again.  He assures me he will solve the problem. I let out a sigh of relief.

Level Three Customer Service Guy comes back on the call where I wait with gratitude and anticipatory excitement. LTCSG says, “I see the problem.  Your computer only fits with a six cell battery and what they sent you was a nine cell battery.”

I struggle to breathe. Okay. Just because common sense made no sense to Levels One and Two, maybe it will work with Level Three Guy. I begin, “Sir, I’m afraid you are mistaken. Yo see, the computer in front of me came with a nine cell battery and I have purchased several replacement nine cell batteries from Dell.”

Didn’t even make a dent. He continues, “Ma’am. No. Please listen. You have
the right battery for your computer. We just need to send you six cell batteries of the same type and you will be ready to go.”

“But–”

“Trust me. Your computer can only use a six cell battery edition of the same kind of battery you were sent. I will order two of these for you.”

At this point, I suspect I’m going insane. I give up. “Fine. Here’s my credit card number…though you are sending me an incompatible battery and wasting another week.”

To check out the insanity possibility I now drive to Best Buy to get checked out with a Geek Squad Guy. I run my story, show him my computer and ask if I’m losing it. Geek Squad Guy says: “No ma’am. That is a nine cell battery and your computer uses a nine cell battery.”

Trembling and nauseous. I know what hell lies ahead. I call Dell back. I trudge through levels one, two, and three spouting my name, address, and shoe size over and over.

Level Four Supervisor Guy apologizes profusely and says he’ll fix the problem. Could he please have my name, address, last four digits of my Social Security Number, and place of birth.

Hour Four

Fifty-six games of solitaire and four dropped calls (each requiring that I give them my birth certificate again), Level Four Supervisor Guy is back on the phone. I tell him my sad story. He looks up the order for the two batteries Level Three Guy ordered for me. He agrees that those batteries are not the correct batteries. He tells me not to worry, when I receive the batteries, my money will be refunded after I take the package to a UPS office, since I have nothing to do with my life except to do research and run errands for Dell.

Level Four Supervisor Guy has a special goodie for me since I’ve had so much trouble.  The goodie? “We are going to give you free shipping for these new batteries!” he says grandly.

I go back to the insanity possibility.  Did he just say Dell was generously going to
pay for shipping back to Dell the batteries to replace the wrong batteries for which I had paid Express Shipping?  I couldn’t hold in my glee and laughed. He asked me if I’d be interested in opening a Dell credit card.  Now I am roaring with joy.
“Oh, yes, that’s just want I want to do. I want to arrange my life to deal further with
Dell customer service, that is exactly what I want to do.”

Then, Level Four Supervisor Guy asked if I would stay on the line for a survey to help them out.  What?  I’m working for Dell Human Resources now?

Maybe I would have answered a few questions, but I was thinking margarita and a Jorge’s enchilada platter for lunch.  Oh, but wait.  My other phone is ringing….which was handy since my call with Level Four Guy had dropped before the survey commenced and before he’d ordered the correct batteries for me.

I answer the cell. “First, let me thank you for choosing Dell. We show that earlier today you ordered two six-celled batteries. We’d like to follow up on your call to Customer Service. Would you punch in your name, phone number, and the Day Lincoln was shot…and then choose from the following options…”

Lunch turned out to be a fantasy. You’d think this situation couldn’t get worse, but it does. Going insane seems like a small price for how I spent the afternoon.