Independence Day!

I am looking into Olivia's eyes. She spent the day outside in the cold and rain, and when I came home, she walked in the door with me as if she owned the place. After having a bite to eat, she jumped onto the chair next to me and curled up in her sheepskin-lined bed. She rolled up into a ball with her head cocked almost upside down and her eyes have now squinted closed. She's completely calm and cozy...as snug as a bug in a rug with nothing on her mind, but enjoying her cat nap.

I, on the other hand, am sitting at my computer (finally!) wondering what I should write. My self-imposed Thursday deadline is today and while I have a number of topic ideas, none are fully fleshed out. I also told myself I would go through boxes of paperwork, trim and wash some green beans, clean out my inbox, and reply to "friend" requests and messages on Facebook. At least a dozen other "to-do's" flashed in and out of my consciousness today and, of course, my official "to-do" list scrolls a couple of pages long—probably just like yours.

But by all accounts, my life right now is about as stress-free as it gets. I don't have a regular job (by choice), no kids to take care of, no money or health problems, plus I'm eating healthier than ever and getting plenty of exercise. Yet, I still feel stress. Why?

I set all kinds of goals for myself, then treat them like orders that need to be carried out at all costs. But these goals are not the result of careful planning. Nope, they are just random thoughts that cross my mind. It's as if when I think: "That's a good idea," it immediately turns from a good idea to an internal command.

Take this week's column for example. After three weeks of writing about self-hate, sadness, and guilt, I began to think this blog should be titled "Annie's Angst" instead of "Annie's Column" and I told myself I would make this week's post lighthearted, even funny if I could manage it. I fantasized it being as cleverly written as 30 Rock or The Daily Show. My friends (that's YOU!) would comment to me on how funny I am and say: "I laughed my ass off."

I found myself thinking about what I could write about while driving, showering, doing dishes, and twisting into the shape of a pretzel at yoga. I thought of a number of topics, but none of them remotely qualified as lighthearted. And no wonder, because I was mostly feeling sad.

To add to the pressure, word seems to be getting out about my blog and there are some people, now, that I don't even know who are reading it. It's no longer just my closest friends and family, but peripheral friends, and even STRANGERS, and we all know that strangers are a scary thing. You don't get in cars with them, and I certainly don't want to expose any less-than-stellar writing to them!

So, all week I have been on the lookout for something fun to write about and all week I have felt sad and not in the mood to write anything funny and my deadline approached and the tightness in my body and spirit got worse, and why? Because I told myself I had to be funny and post by Thursday.

The fact that I have self-imposed stress is not a new insight for me. When I become aware of it (like now), I tend to be gentler on myself and ease up on the expectations. Then as my mind focuses in a different direction, that awareness evaporates and I fall into my old patterns. Patterns such as waking up and thinking about my "to-do" list for the day, which inevitably is too much to get done in a week, let alone in one day.

The real question is...what do I enjoy about feeling pressured and stressed? For all I complain about it and even find myself writing an entire column about it, there must be something about it that I like. Perhaps it's the familiarity of the feeling. But why has the feeling become familiar? Almost every European I meet says Americans work too much. Maybe long to-do lists and self-imposed deadlines and pressures are simply part of being American. Maybe I should just think of it as being patriotic. Or maybe there's a deeper and more personal psychology behind my feelings that I don't yet understand.

Whatever the reason, I am once again aware of the self-imposed pressure and am giving myself a break. I began writing this column yesterday (the great Thursday deadline!), but last night, instead of pushing myself to finish when I was tired and didn't feel like writing, I opened up Netflix and enjoyed someone else's really funny and clever dialogue as I watched an old episode of 30 Rock.

This coming Sunday is The Fourth of July...Independence Day. I am going to celebrate by declaring independence from my self-imposed stress. I hope you will join me!