As I have become older, things that once weren't that big of a deal are now, with regret, things I stress over. Stress is one of the biggest problems in our society. Which is funny, because for something that is basically an idea, or a concept, it causes all sorts of damage.
I'm lucky. I have not dealt with huge amounts of it yet. There are people my age having to make decisions on how to properly care for their parents, or what job to take in order to support their kids. I have reasonably healthy parents and no kids, so currently this is not a problem for me. In my current job, I actually love the stressful situations (to a point), but when I've had enough, I know I need to take a minute and step back and reevaluate my tasks.
But as of late, I've decided to grow up. No more safe job where I'm the one with the answers and can fix everything. I need a challenge. No more living with the parents. I want my own house. I need to have a life and I can't do that on my current payday, and my current profession. I want to travel. I want to experience the good that life has to offer; not the other.
Enter the pressure of trying to do build a life in 6 months. I graduate in May. I want to leave Wal-Mart by then, and I have to be someone that a more professional job will hire. My work has to speak for itself, and I have a lot riding on it. The house, the future vacations, my future marriage, and my future kids (maybe) are riding on my performance.
This is why the day that I would like to relive is the day my senior high school class arrived in Florida for our first day of our Senior Trip. We had to have everything turned in the week before, and a huge paper that was titled, "Our Philosophy of Life," which was just as it said; our outlook on things so far.
I barely slept that week. I pulled all-nighters trying to do journals on poems such as "Ode to a Grecian Urn," and works such as "Tartuffe." The day that the Philosophy of Life was due, I stayed after school, finished it, and drove an hour home to take a shower, and have my parents drive me back to school to leave for Florida.
My other classmates, those who didn't have the teacher I had, only had a notebook and a philosophy of life paper due. They were very well rested and decided to stay up all night. That meant no sleep on the bus. So the next day, when we hit the beach, straight off the bus, before we even went to a hotel room, the sand was my bed, and the sun was my blanket.
Sleep came easy, because I didn't go to sleep thinking about what all I had due the next day. There was nothing due and I wouldn't have that thought again until August.
That was the best four hours sleep I have ever gotten in my life. I've had days off since, and vacations, and Spring Breaks, but none have compared to the literal decompression my mind went through while laying on the beach and sleeping. The waves in the background, and the sun baking my skin, and a gentle breeze making it the perfect stress-free time. When I woke up, tanner, and well rested, I knew I had a new beginning in the works, and the knowledge that part of my life had come to an end.
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