I’m Not Crazy I Just Stress A Lot


Stress, we all have it, just some of us don’t know how to cope with it. Raise you hand if you replay over and over in your mind the argument you had with your bestfriend (raises her hand slowly). She was a jerk, you were a jerk, how dare she, what did I do, how can I fix it, she better apologize, friendship terminated….. it all plays over time and again in your mind. Forget the fact it happened 5 hours ago or 5 days ago or a year ago… you stress and worry it into the ground. Your stomach hurts, your heart races, you put on your grouchy pants, you’re distracted…. stress…. yuck. So I ask you, what does your stressed face look like?

Mine apparently is a mix between duck face and puppy dog eyes, scary right? I will be the first to admit that I let things stew inside my girl brain far longer than they should. I take things to heart, I wear said heart on my sleeve. Today is no exception, which is why it should come as no surprise that I found myself at the beginning of a stressed out whirlwind. I am a freelancer, which is sort of a love hate relationship. I love the fact I get to be my own boss, set my own hours, and meet lots and lots of amazing people. The bummer side of things is it’s really hard for me to disengage and sometimes (not very often) I have a client that just rubs me the wrong way. That happened to me today, I went from relaxed and carefree, to attack mode in about 2.3 seconds. Let me tell you I was hot and not in a fun sexy sort of way.

Don’t worry this isn’t where I launch into a rant session about how my client is this or that, to each there own. Poor B she gets to work at home in yoga pants and has a snuggly puppy for a coworker…. no no… nothing like that at all, I really do love my career. This story takes an unusual twist. Incoming stress, resulted in flared emotions, ended with me squashing it. That’s right, I squashed the thought process. Even a year ago I wouldn’t have thought this was possible. I was always a slave to my emotions. If I was angry… I was ANGRY. If I was sad…there weren’t enough tissues in the house. If I was happy… I sparkled like the sun. Every little thing impacted how I felt, until I had my ah hah moment…..

A consistant level of happiness is easily possible when you stop over-thinking and overreacting to everything.

Sure my client really ruffled my duck feathers, but it is what it is. When I felt my blood pressure begin to rise I simply thought to myself, “Nope, it’s not worth it.” Yes I may sound a little crazy talking to myself, but that’s exactly how I handled it. I simply refused to dwell on it and replaced the “growl I will maul your face” reaction with “Oh Chipotle sounds good for lunch” reaction. Here’s my point, you can choose your own thought process. You can either rage/worry/stress/attack/maul someone’s face or you can plan what you will be adding to your burrito bowl. What would you rather think about, delicious yummy heaven in a bowl or some email. I vote for the burrito bowl extra pico. Nommy!

The method I’ve been using to squash my stressing thought process is an easy one. Take a walk with me while I explain. It’s so easy even I can do it, which should tell you something. I call this method the Pretty Pretty Box Process….

  1. Set aside 20 min a day where you can be alone without interruption. (Interruption explained: children, ManFriends, friends, pets, cell phone, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest…. you catch my drift) Put everything away so that it’s just you, yourself, and awesomeness.
  2. For the first 10 min stress your face off. That’s right, have a royal stressfest. Let your mind run rabid through all the junk that happened throughout your day. Really just embrace what rubbed you the wrong way. Write it down if that helps.
  3. For the final 10 min put on your rational cap. If there is something you can’t control (i.e. an idiot coworker or traffic jam) let it go. Those sandtrap stressors (defined as situation you can’t fix, change, or control… stressing about them will only cause you to sink lower and lower)  will do nothing but pull you down. If you can’t fix it, forget it. The tangible stressors (defined as something you can actually yourself come in contact with and fix) decide how to take care of them and do it. You can take care of the mountain on laundry overtaking your bathroom… easy peasy… do the laundry. Take care of what you can and forget the rest.
  4. At the end of the 20 min you are back in your relaxed mojo zone. If anything stressy creeps into your mind during non stress time, push them out of your mind and into your Pretty Pretty Box to worry about later. 20 a day, that’s all the stress time you get. If it’s not that 20 min period, wash it away. Think about a funny joke, dinner, ponies… I don’t care think about anything other than worry and stress.

I went from a chronic stressed out worry wart, to fairly chilled out. It’s still a daily training process. We are incredible creatures able to transform before our own eyes. Make it one day leading a less stressed life and I’m sure you will be hooked. Destress bit by bit, no one wants wrinkles or gray before their time. Smile lovelies, you are do this. What stresses you out the most?

As always until next time…

Keep it Sassy & Classy,

B's Sig


Heck No Boring, Hello Mission Fun! Who’s With Me?

Ladies, I am on a mission, and I want to drag you along for the ride. That’s right I want you to be my partner in crime because that’s what sassy gal pals do. We tag right along for all adventures without a second thought. Us women, we have to stick together.

Who’s with me….

That not so ravishing creature above is me, not all the time, but when I think about my impending birthday (psssst the big 3—–0) I turn into a hot ugly crying mess. Sure sure it starts out innocently enough as I glance at the calendar in my office or the date on my phone. Then my basic math skills taught to me by my evil 3rd grade teacher kick in, revealing the number of days left in my 20’s. This is when the panic while rocking in the fetal position comes into play. In short… I lose my ever loving mind.

After choking back the ugly tears and bubbling nose goo (you know it’s not just me), I came to a realization. It’s not so much the number *cough**couch* 30 that terrifies me, it’s the negative imagery that I associate with that specific number. To me 30=adulthood and adulthood=lame-o-ville. Now don’t get me wrong I’m a responsible gal, I’m not afraid of being a “big girl”…. I’m afraid of being boring. I don’t want to wake up the morning of my 30th birthday and suddenly only be able to talk about stocks and pot roast. Translation, “I don’t want to grow up, I wanna be a toys-r-us kid”.

I don’t want to wake up, work, eat, sit on the couch, sleep… Rinse and repeat. NO! I don’t want to stop having fun no matter how many years I’ve been dancing around on the Earth. I want to pay the electric bill, but I want to do it while dancing around in my underwear singing off key to a hairbrush. I want to buy groceries, but I want to start a game of tag in the middle of the produce isle, TAG you’re it. I will even gladly wait in line at the dreaded DMV, but I just might smile and spark up random conversation with those waiting in the never ending line along side me. To continue my thought from yesterday, growing up doesn’t have to mean growing boring. We are as exciting and full of life as we choose to be.

Trust me ladies if I had a magic wand I could wave to make my thighs smaller (like they use to be) and my boobs perkier (like they use to be), I would. Not only would I use that magic wand, I would share it with all of you, because I’m a giver like that. Alas, I’m wandless… But I’m not without a fun idea. Perhaps fun is an understatement, I’m thinking it’s on the verge of quirky. Quirky on the verge of Fantastic. Fantastic on the verge of… You know you want to do this…. Allow me to explain.

I found this list of To Do’s circulating around social media world and I found myself wanting to do them, why? Why not! I tweaked the list a little and came up with 7 funny to do items. Are there at least 6 other adventurous souls out there who would want to take on at least one of these silly To Do items with me?




Mission Fun To Do List:

  1. Pick one (at least) to do list item (see above)
  2. Post down in the comments what to do list item you are taking on
  3. Record or otherwise document completion of said to do list item
  4. Let’s all link up to share in the humor

Honestly life is too short to be lived boring. Who wants to have some fun with me? Anyone, anyone? Join in, in the comments.

As always, until next time…

Keep it Sassy & Classy,

B's Sig

Say What You Need to Say

Hello gorgeous, always fabulous to see you. I had an “Ah Hah” moment over the weekend that I’m super excited (perhaps a little nervous) to share with you. This moment involved putting on my big girl panties, telling the scared little girl inside of me to be quiet for a second, and taking advice from an always wise ManFriend. This weekend I faced a fear over five years in the making.

Let’s get a little back story… Yeah!… Story time…

Over 5 years ago I went through some major life changes. In the matter of about a year life hauled off and sucker punched me right in the kisser. WHAM! I should have seen it coming, but I was too busy blinding myself to see it. It’s really hard to see a big fat knuckle sandwich when you choose to skip along with your eyes closed, fingers in your ears, and a loud “lalalala” coming from your lips. Truth is, that WHAMY, it wasn’t so much life…. It was me. I kicked my world into a spiral of bad decisions and youthful ignorance.

The first step to fixing a problem is first admitting you have a problem. You see, I didn’t acknowledge this fact until I was already flying head first down a slide soaped up with Mr. Bubbles. By the time I’d realized I was hurting myself and those around me… I was alone. I woke up one morning, picked up the phone, and realized I had no one to call. I had successfully isolated myself from everyone with my hurtful behavior and childish actions. To put it bluntly, my life sucked.

The worst of it was losing my best-friend of nearly 20 years. She’d stood by me through the loss of my father, too many bad decision to count, heartbreak, joy… All of it. She was the closest thing to family I had growing up, she and her family were amazing to me. Even she had had enough of me. The ugly person I’d chosen to act like forced to her utter the phrase, “B, my life is better off without you in it.” To say I was crushed, would be the understatement of the century.

A few months passed and I realized I was a total moron. I apologized, but it wasn’t enough. I had hurt people too badly. I vowed at that moment to never ever make those foolish selfish mistakes again. I’m proud to say that though I’m far from perfect, those mistakes, they aren’t even an option for me anymore. On and off through the last 5 years I’d tried to reach out to my former best-friend and received little to no response. Couldn’t blame her, I’d pushed everyone too far.

This past October I sent her a message on Facebook (oh the joys of social media) simply asking how to she was. No response. It hurt, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected. I pushed it out of my mind and focused my thoughts on positive energy. Over this past weekend we were at a museum out of town in a crowded elevator, my mind going a mile a second making sure everyone was accounted for, when a very familiar voice said… “Hello B.” I look up to see the face of that best-friend that I had missed so much for so long. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh, cry, or be angry. My insides were twisted and in an instant the exchange was over.

My mood changed. I was grouchy. I really needed time to be alone and reflect, but family time doesn’t always allow for space. When alone in the car with ManFriend I cried, actual head in my hand ugly face sobbed. ManFriend, drove in silence, smart to let me get it out and when I finally stopped crying he said. “B, this is your choice… But it seems to me that you love her and miss her. Tell her that.”

That’s probably the best piece of advice I’ve received in a long time. ManFriend and I talked for 2 days about me contacting her. Scared, doesn’t cover what I felt at the thought of getting rejected again. It’s hard, so hard, to put yourself out there to possibly get rejected. No one wants to get shot down or hurt…but you never know what will happen until you lay it all out on the line.

My former best-friend and I have since exchanged a few causal Facebook messages and have even become “friends” on Facebook. I’m thankful for even that small step. I’m not sure if we can ever be friends again, but with at least having the door to a friendship unlocked I feel like a little hole in my heart has been filled.

I want to encourage everyone to say what you need to say. Don’t be afraid to get hurt, because no matter the outcome you will learn something. You deserve all the happiness in the world, which you may miss out on if you are too much of a Chicken Little to go out there and get what you want. Do it today: send that email or write that letter. Pick up the phone and make a phone call that is long overdue. Go live your life without fear.



I’m sure glad that I took a chance…I bet you will be too.


As always, until next time….


Keep it Sassy & Classy,

B's Sig