Am I stressed?

So this last week I had to make an appointment with the dermatologist to discuss some skin issue I’m having on my face. He immediately tells me what it is, that it only happens with women and usually has to do with stress. Then he asked me, “Are you stressed?”. I fumble with my thoughts, completely shocked that this skin thing really is a “thing” that needs to get dealt with and that it has to do with stress, loosely translated I’m doing it to myself. He prescribes me some antibiotics. I think it’s nothing at all, until he tells me I might get lightheaded so go to bed right after taking it. I get the prescription filled at CVS and the pharmacist tells me to drink a full glass of water and sit up for an hour after taking it “cause it can give really bad acid reflux, practically burn a hole right through your throat. Drink lots of water, have a great day”. Um sir, please tell me you’re prone to dramatic overstatements.
How could I possibly be stressed, after all I’m not in charge of a Fortune 500 company or deal with the concerns of raising kids appropriately in this world or even have anyone else’s life dependent upon me. I have no real major responsibilities other than taking care of myself and getting to work on time. Although when I think back over the past 9 years of how many times people have come and gone in the house, I can’t help but chuckle a little and think I haven’t actually been alone very often. Four people, one house, roughly 67 “visits” that lasted anywhere from 2 days to a year. For a girl that craves routine, that’s a lot!
I work a job that I despise and still can’t believe I’ve been working here for 7 years of my life. I’m 30, 7 years is more than a fourth of my entire life. I have to stretch out projects that should take 15 minutes to last 5 hours just so I can look busy or I start worrying I won’t look busy enough and they’ll have a reason to get rid of me, expendable if you will. I have student loan debt that I’m paying off even though I have a Masters degree that I’m not currently using and the job market that seems darn near impenetrable. Come on old lady librarians, you have to start dying off or retiring soon. I’m begging you!
I miss my cat, Shakespeare. I mean really miss him. It’s pathetic and sad all at the same time. He was a great cat. I try to ignore it, move on, but every now and then something reminds me of how awesome it was to have him sitting next to me on the couch, not really bothering me just kind of sitting there keeping me company.
I’m in love! I get to see my wonderful man nearly every weekend, which also means I haven’t fully unpacked in over 9 months ;) I live out of my toiletry bag and have officially deemed Thursday my “laundry/pack/clean” day. But it’s so worth it! I love getting to see him and spend time with him. Although eventually I’m going to have to move, which means I start thinking about boxing up my stuff, moving out of the house I’ve always lived in and making another place feel like home. I ponder what it will be like living in a new city, being a wife and having the do the dishes every single day, even when I don’t feel like it.
I have on my “to do” list that I need to go grocery shopping before my folks get home, clean the house for girl’s night, try to make yogurt with my new yogurt maker, clean out the fridge of the suspicious looking foods that were in it when the folks left a couple weeks ago, remove the cat hair from the lamp shades and couch, try to get a walk in every night, cook something healthy and delicious for work lunches, fill out and fax the form to get transcripts in case I’m asked for another interview, look up what new jobs have posted, don’t forget to pick up cat food, take my antibiotics 2 hours after I eat or 1 hour before I eat, sit up for an hour so I don’t get the dreaded acid reflux but lay down right away after in case I get the dreaded lightheaded feeling, put out the water jugs, bring up the garbage can, buy hurricane provisions just in case, keep an eye on the storm’s track, call for a refill, write and send the email that I’ve been pondering for a few days, drink lots of water...

“Are you stressed?”, the doctor asked me. “No, not really, I don’t think so.”