My husband said to me point blank that I'm way to stressed out. I decided to take action about it and found a local Buddhist meditation class offered at the Beverly Hills library. In theory, the distance from my work to the class should have taken about 30 minutes. In Los Angeles, you can kiss any hope of getting anywhere in a reasonable amount of time goodbye.
I commute an hour to an hour and a half to work each way. I need to take this class because there are times where I really think I'm going to lose my mind. More than once I've been stuck in traffic and I can actually feel my heart beating in my head. Thank GOD for the Howard Stern show because otherwise I'd be a raving lunatic. Nevertheless, Howard can not calm me down 100% of the time, and therefore I had high hopes that this class would teach me to go to a "happy place" and relieve some of my stress.
Class started at 7pm and I left work at 6:05pm on the dot. And lo and behold I got stuck in gridlock traffic. So there I am, feeling my blood pressure rise as my breathing becomes labored, because I'm stressed out that I won't make it on time to my de-stressing meditation class.
I ended up pulling into the library on two wheels, ran down two flights of steps, across a courtyard and up another flight of steps to get to the door. I missed it. It had already begun. Great, now I get to get back in the car and drive another hour home, SANS meditation. Sigh.
Good news is tonight I'm going to a definite stress reliever. I'm going to Slash's book signing at the Whiskey a Go Go. I've waited twenty years to meet this man and tonight is my night! I told Hubbie not to wait up in case I decide to run off with my first true love. Now I just have to figure out what to say.
Wish me luck!
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