Stress

Let’s see. From what I can tell, these essays have some rules that I should follow. In order for me to write a good essay, I need to know the rules. Write for one hour. Have a specific topic in mind. Don’t think too hard about what you write before you write it. The other essays I’ve read from you all, not very many of you have been following the rules. On the other hand, for this essay, following the rules won’t really make my essay better than any other, will it?

I want to title my essay Stress. I’m sure all of you can relate. As I am writing this, it is 7:30am, and I am sitting outside my bishop’s office with nothing to do. That is one reason why I like my calling. I get to sit around with nothing to do. I’m sure being the actual Executive Secretary is a lot more stressful, but my being assistant is working out quite well for me. I only have to do stuff when I am told to do it. Maybe that’s why I don’t find it very stressful.

I had one of the most stressful weeks this past week. I had three major tests to take, a part for my group’s pipsqueak engine to begin, lots of homework to make up, my car fell apart (almost literally broke in half), I wouldn’t get to see the girl I like all week, and I lost my house key—again. Wow. And the week ended on Friday the 13. Fate? I dunno. But, needless to say, there was a lot to think about. There was some light at the end of the tunnel, though. I had told this girl that I would be having a very stressful week, and so she decided she wanted to make dinner for me on Friday. (Why she didn’t want to make dinner for me earlier during the week when I didn’t have time to make it myself, I don’t know.) The week still wasn’t over by then, though.

I don’t know how I had time to think about this during the week, but the thought came to mind that this is what college life is supposed to be like. I mean, …[half hour later]…a really cute girl just came in for her interview and distracted me for a while. I had to take the time to talk, so I hope you all will forgive me for probably going over my hour time limit.

I mean, this is what college life is all about, isn’t it? Choosing what to be stressed out about. I guess that’s the best way to put it. Honestly, out of the three tests I had this week, I decided that one of them wasn’t worth stressing out about, and I decided that my car could wait, because I didn’t want to think that hard about it. Now that the week is over, my tests are over and done with, (I probably didn’t do all that well on two of them) and I got to spend yesterday outside in the wonderful weather fixing my car. It worked out great. Everything has worked out well so far (except that the lost and found offices don’t open until Monday, and I’ve already been locked out of my apartment once this weekend), and I made my motto of the week according to the lyrics of a good song—“I won’t worry my life away” (by Jason Mraz—if you want to look it up).

Well, my hour is up, and I didn’t find a way to get to my point. Maybe I’ll get to it quick. Bear with me.

So there are good stresses and bad stresses. Like this right now. I’m trying to get this typed within the hour allotted, but questions come up from the people that are here for interviews, and I like to give people answers to try and magnify my calling. Sure, my calling is stressful, but it’s a good kind of stressful. As opposed to worrying for tests or deadlines. My roommate has a good philosophy for tests—if you haven’t learned it already from class and homework, you won’t learn it from cramming. That’s why I never see him worry too much about his tests. And he does quite well on them, too.

Another thing that can be very stressful is trying to be a good friend. Having friends is a lot of work. Especially if there is a lot of other stressful things to worry about. But having friends is definitely a worthy stress to be worried about. It even says so in the scriptures—read Luke 16:1-12. I guess this leads to the moral of the story that I was working so hard to get at. Next time you think about being stressed out, think “you can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.” Which is worse to worry about?

I don’t know if any of that made any sense at all, but that was one of the rules, right? I just wrote what came to mind. I hope you can get something out of it!