You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you find consolation in a corollary of an entirely irrelevant scientific theory. It’d be more convenient to shrug everything off and put the blame on prevailing natural phenomena. But there’s always a limit to the stress we could take in, regardless of whether the pressure was self-inflicted or not.
One could even consider establishing a rubricked stress quota to gauge one’s mental disturbance level. It’s just that everybody needs some sort of coping mechanism to reverse the adverse effect of stress upon us. Be it as lame as ranting in twitter or repetitively banging one’s head against a wall or sulking on the water closet while mindlessly flushing the toilet, there must be something. Else, we’ll rip our paper-thin sanity; else, we’ll go bonkers.
As for me, I’d rather ditch the stress quota rubric and look forward to meeting her tomorrow. She does not always give sound counselling. But at least, she’s not a self-righteous bitch.