At last, a much needed break
Rrrurrurrurru … thunk.
That, for those not familiar with the break room at the Columbia Basin Herald, is the sound of the vending machine dispensing a much needed snack to an anxious and desperately hungry staffer. It was one of those long nights I frequently have here at the office, calling coaches for game results, writing up a story on a game I covered that evening and getting my photos ready for tomorrow's edition.
After carefully selecting my treat (I believe it was the oatmeal raisin cookies) and making sure not to accidentally press the key combination that would discharge a bag of unpleasantly flavored potato chips, launch sequence was initiated.
Rrrurrurrurru …
It was somewhere between the third and fourth 'u' that my stomach fluttered at the thought that my snack might get stuck in the vending machine, leaving my hunger utterly unsatisfied. I sure am hungry. I really could use a snack right …
Thunk.
Relief rushed through my body, I grabbed my snack, and then I stopped.
Why did something so mundane as a vending machine (which, knock on wood, has yet to let me down) cause me to get so anxious and worried? The only conclusion I could come up with is that I am just way too stressed out.
As I thought about this incident, I realized that it was not just an anomaly, but one in a series of little things that had been getting to me lately.
While making a deposit at the ATM the other day, stress once again reared its ugly head.
After keying in the amount of my deposit, the machine spit out an envelope into which I was to place my check, seal the envelope, write the deposit amount on the outside and feed the envelope back into the machine with the arrow facing in the correct direction.
Apparently, ATM engineers calculated that this entire process takes no more than 0.017 seconds, as the machine immediately began beeping at me with such an intensity that I feared for my life. Think "Top Gun" with a Russian MiG-28 on your six with missile lock and you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, the point here is that life is just plain full of stress. While big stressors will always cause grief, life's little moments of stress shouldn't be such a problem. When the little stresses feel like the big ones, it can mean only one thing: It's time for a break.
For me, "break" means a long overdue vacation. Destination of choice, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Departure, last Friday morning.
Yes, I'm finally taking it easy and unwinding those nerves that have me ready to hit the eject button at any moment. I'm going to have fun, forget about my problems and see to it that a change in attitude follows my change in latitude.
I plan to have no plan. I will simply go where the sun and the fun lead me.
As you read this, I should be relaxing on the beach, exploring the jungle, fishing for exotic tropical species or, possibly, rotting in a Mexican prison.
I hope to return fully capable of weathering the "Rrrurrurrurru …" and keeping my composure at the ATM, even if it sounds like it is about to self-destruct.
Tony Vehrs is the Columbia Basin Herald's sports assistant.