Better Over Than Buried Under...?

Stress. I feel a different kind of stress today. Yes, this exact moment at 3:43am in the morning. Pardon me if any grammatical and/or logistical error occur, for I am tired and my laptop is at minimal brightness (thus my eyes are even more impaired than it's usual glass-less state). 


My psychology class tells me that there are three methods to deter or solve stress: 

1. Deal with the problem; minimize it, or get rid of it altogether.
2. Change the way you see the problem; it's a perspective adaptation, so that the grave, grave world wouldn't appear so grave. We can't change this, but we can don our rose-coloured glasses.
3. Run like mad to your friends and family, and bathe in their tender, loving care until the darkness passes.

There are also two "definitions" of stress. Though my current state stresses that whatever I say should not be taken seriously without slight research (and the fact that this is unnecessary information in the course and hence has become obsolete in my memory) , these two meaning of stress basically boils down to how it is:

1. A noun; something that is present. For instance, "I have so much stress going on in my life!". Or, "Fuck this stress."
2. A verb; something that we feel. For instance, "This is stressing me out!". Or, "Fuck, I'm stressed."

In any case, why am I stressed? Tomorrow, or rather "today", is my birthday barbecue. Albeit it's the culmination of my friend JT's and my birthday celebrations, it still feels strange. This is because of three reasons. 

First, I didn't invite any of my university friends; just the high school ones. This creates three sub-problems, wherein I somewhat distance myself from my blossoming friendships. Plus, this old, familiar bunch of high school chums is trapped in the past - I view them as the "high school friends". Plus, my boyfriend is there, plus his best friend (remember Physics Guy, or something? Yeah, best friend is that guy), and this dynamic plus the second subproblem of the first problem would make my brain combust. 

Secondly, I am starting to feel hesitant about going to China. Applications have been processed and all that's left to deal with are the technical details, like starting date and itinerary information. Plus the fact that the questions of "is IM going to Hong Kong with me?" must be a imperative statement of "IM is/is not going to Hong Kong with me". Itinerary is dependent on this latter statement (or lack thereof). 

Thirdly, in order to gain an answer from IM's parents with respect to China vacationing, "we have to cook" a fancy fucking dinner for the parents. By "we have to cook", I mean "I have to cook, with IM handing me utensils from cupboards of the unfamiliar kitchen". IM wants it to be fantastic - albeit it's understandable that he wants this, the declination of mashed potatoes and beef stew threw my head into haywire. Um, hi? Comfort zone of cooking: way, beyond, GONE. So now, the current menu consists of pan-seared chicken breast with garlic and balsamic sauce, coated with mushrooms alongside sautéed asparagus with onion, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, *takes a breath* and linguine pasta with a makeshift crushed&fresh tomato-olive-herb-onion-garlic-vegetable sauce. (Note to self: if this last dish turns out good, must make for EF.) Oh yeah, that's not all. *Simultaneously rolls eyes and exhales* Dessert is presented with a chocolate cake coated with a rich, yet not too sweet, chocolate creamcheese icing. This third stress-inducer also has a subproblem of its own: IM has a job interview the day of massive-cooking (aka my slow and deliberate death via kitchenware and high blood pressure). This job interview equates to a plethora of unlikelihood that he would be able to go to Hong Kong with me, since new employees are not likely to be given 2 week holidays. This interview has the potential to completely, heartbreakingly heartshatteringly nullify the extensive effort pulled into the dinner. Irony? Yeah, this is irony. Probably one of the fairest candidates to be the epitome of the term "irony" too. Fuck my life.

Which method of solving stress should I use? I'd like to prompt a new, forth method: 

Hide in a cave and sleep for all eternity until all of one's problems solve themselves, and are therefore removed from the world that is leftover after the duration of one's hibernation. 

In reality, I'll deal and be less pessimistic. (Methods one and two, for reference's sake.) 

I'm curious to see how my next post will be like, assuming I survive. (Yeah, this is the furthest extent of my optimism - the assumption that I do not encounter death.)