Posts Tagged ‘pushing stress envelopes’

Sanity Questioned

November 20, 2008

So, here I am, just recovering from an extremely stressful 10 days a few weeks ago. As a friend pointed out: “I believe you experienced all of life’s major traumas in a single week: death, divorce, moving, change of job and illness…”

Well, as both my drunken devoted readers…okay, okay, the three of you…have likely noticed, I’m not posting as much of late. A big part of that is that I’m still recovering in shell shock from all the stuff at the beginning of the month. I’m still a bit stressed by those things and some other stuff in life (but, then, aren’t we all battling our own stress demons?).

So…what does a guy with stress and a constrained budget need in his life? Well, hell yeah… a brand new hobby full of danger and costing lots of money! I started SCUBA lessons…

Can I afford it now? Not really. I’m already starting to juggle my ‘new, not-so-improved bachelor’ budget with the foreknowledge that alimony—and lots of it—is likely a given in my future. But that’s what ‘credit’ is for, yes?

Is there some stress involved? Well, yeah, submitting yourself to rely on breathing technology you don’t fully understand, maintained by people you’ve never met, while immersed in a non-breathable environment is one stressor. Having to learn lots of new stuff is also a stressor… like how to wrestle the breathing regulator from your dive buddy’s mouth when your equipment fails at 60 feet depth so you can breath… or how to ignore said dive buddy clamoring to regain control of that breathing regulator while they slowly lose consciousness… these are difficult things to learn and master!

Why SCUBA? Well, it’s been something that’s long been on my list of things to do (ooo, there’s a post idea there), ever since watching Lloyd Bridges in “Sea Hunt”. That interest was re-sparked a couple years ago when my Dear Friend took lessons and incessantly repeated regaled me with stories of peaceful reverence she felt as she was taking her SCUBA lessons. Dear Friend also keeps reminding me she needs a dive buddy—not only to share diving adventures in exotic places, but someone that she has a pretty even chance of winning the wrestling match over that breathing regulator. I’m just her guy! And now just seemed to be a good time…for no real good reason…to, along with a new life, new condo, and new credit rating, start on my list of things to do before I slip this mortal coil…

More soon (given my track record of late, I refuse to say “More tomorrow…”) on the SCUBA adventures on a depleted checkbook!