I?m a real big believer in the squeezy stress ball. Oh, am I ever. I just love those things. I?ve got a green one, a blue and a red one. Two are at work, one is at home. Does that mean that I?m full of stress? Well, some people would say that I?m certainly full of something, but I admit that stress is at least somewhere on the list.
Now, the ironic thing about my stress balls is that I CAN?T FIND THEM! AND I NEED THEM!
I?m okay, I?m … o-kay … I?m o …. kaaaaay ……
Breathe I?m a real big believer in the squeezy stress ball. Oh, am I ever. I just love those things. I?ve got a green one, a blue and a red one. Two are at work, one is at home. Does that mean that I?m full of stress? Well, some people would say that I?m certainly full of something, but I admit that stress is at least somewhere on the list.
Now, the ironic thing about my stress balls is that I CAN?T FIND THEM! AND I NEED THEM!
I?m okay, I?m … o-kay … I?m o …. kaaaaay ……
Breathe … breathe ……… breathe ……………..
Ahhhhhhhhhhh ……..
Thinking I was being all smart and clever and keeping myself in good stead at home, I placed my squeezy stress ball right where I can find it, but also well placed so that it?s not in the way. And as soon as I remember where that is, I?ll be a happy man.
The work stress ball is another matter, and, I have to confess, a product of my own doing. I?ll explain.
I tend to walk around the office with the squeezy stress ball, to a) relieve stress, but also b), to keep the fingers flexing on my right hand, as I’ve got kind of carpel pinkie thingy going on because of how I sit and my hand rests on the desk. So the stress ball is of great relief to me. Now, I?ve also been known to stand behind and hover over one of the junior writers I supervise, bouncing the stress ball on the floor behind him in a [i]thum .. thum … thum … [/i]kind of way. It?s just a ha-ha he-he thing; a little work/overlord humor.
Well, this junior writer, who shall remain nameless, has since transferred back home to the Albany area, where he now works for us remotely. So for his last day I played a little going away prank on him. Any time he got up to go to the bathroom, get coffee or take lunch, I quickly snatched his mouse and phone receiver and planted them throughout the office.
He then would arrive back at his desk, confused?a deer in headlights. He would laugh, accuse me of being the culprit (the nerve of that guy!), and then find replacement parts somewhere in the office. And then when he?d get up again, I?d snatch the replacements. And so the day went. A good laugh was had by all (especially me).
Well, in the spirit of [i]paybacks are a bitch[/i], before he left for Albany, said junior writer managed to pilfer my squeezy stress ball and hide it on me somewhere in the office, and of course I?m too proud to admit (to him) that I miss it. Lucky for me I also have a tennis ball on my desk, which is filling in adequately, but it?s just not the same. Plus my ego hates that he got me back. Meanwhile, I?m checking all the draws and cabinets (with no luck so far).
If there?s a lesson to be learned here it probably has something to do with what?s the good for the goose and all that jazz, but mostly it?s that losing my balls is stressful indeed.
