Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. 

It’s as if I’m in the trash compactor on the Death Star, but instead of the walls growing closer side-by-side, the ceiling I’m under is getting lower and lower, and I have no space-pole-vault to prop it up.
Recently, I have been going 90-miles-an-hour at work. My blood pressure seems to be going in a bad direction (or maybe you shouldn’t test when you have caffeine and an empty stomach). After work, I have little energy to address the hairy dust bunnies in the corner of the bathroom (except I do because that’s gross).

Thank God I don’t feel that way all the time – that “under pressure” feeling.

Other times I feel safe under a canopy of palm branches, under a warm blanket, or under the wings of a good friend. 

Last night, B and I took an unplanned trip to Dave & Busters in Tempe, AZ. We shot hoops and Aliens. We won Deal or no Deal, and crashed a StarWars space pod. We spent a few dollars and wound up with some cheap prizes: a glitter bracelet, sticky hands, and a floppy octopus tentacle you put on the end of your finger and annoy you husband with. 

We walked around an outdoor mall, and swung around our sticky hands trying to get them to high-five. It was glorious to be out from under the trash compactor and under the palm branches.

In what circumstances recently did you feel stressed and in what ones did you feel peace?

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