Stress takes its toll. Lines around eyes deepen, circles under them darken. Skin starts to resemble the dusty ash look of a statue. Friends start giving that are-you-sure-you're-alright-you-look-terrible look.
When I'm stressed I start out looking worse than I feel. I can thrive on sleep deprivation and too much office time. But eventually the general unsettled feeling and blah-ness of the stress far surpasses any possible appearance of such. That's when stress comes pouring out in my attitude.
That's when everyone around should beware.
Friends and the boy try to help. They tell me to relax. To take it easy. To go for a swim. To switch jobs. These harmless (good) suggestions bring out my frustration.
Yes, I know I'm stressed. Yes, I know I'm grouchy. And yes, I know I look terrible (and feel not-so-great, too). These don't need to be pointed out to me.
And yes something needs to change. But things have to be done. There's no one else right now that can do them. And as my boss has said, I can sleep when I'm dead.
Besides, I do actually like the projects I'm working on, and I am taking a "day off" this week. So what am I complaining about.