Weed Whacker

I mostly internalize stress. If you ask those closest to me - Little and the fella, namely - they'll tell you that they see it, and that it makes me irritable and moody. Potentially true. But the primary way my stress lets itself out makes both my underwear and my bangs the victim. Anxiety causes me to have the overwhelming urge to go commando. Even if that means a detour to the work bathroom to allow myself to be free. Um, right. It also causes extreme anger toward my forehead fringe. In fact, the fella and my sis have urged me time and time again to stop cutting them myself, and I do well until my emotions run high. Even this morning, in fact, I grabbed my Fiskars, a clump of bang and leaned over my trashcan to snip, snip, snip. And every time, they're right. I really need to find a better outlet.