So this is a little microfiction I wrote right before my move as everything started falling apart rather than into place. It was mostly about trying to calm down, not a strength.
I force my teeth to unclench, and repeat for what feels like the 100th time “There is no point in worrying about it. The decision has been made. There is nothing I can do about. Move on.”
I try taking a few deep breaths, but it does nothing to reduce the tension that has been building for days. As the date grows nearer, and the delays greater, the sense of urgency increases.
I try and distract myself with books, hobbies, cleaning, but nothing works. Finally I try my last, strange, desperate attempt. I clean the bathroom, for once a means to an end. I put the plug in the tub, and pour a generous measure of overpriced bubble bath, smiling at the strange color and pungent odor. Its an odd choice, but the memories of childhood it evokes instantly relax me the slightest bit, and I realize that this might work.
The steam rises off the too hot bath, and I put on some music. A special playlist consisting of songs, not relaxing by nature, but by association. As I sink down into the water, listening to the stories of cross dressers and prostitutes, I can feel myself smiling. My muscles loosen, and as I get out I feel both refreshed, and weary.
I crawl into bed, and for the first time in weeks, I fall asleep when my head hits the pillow.
Anne McSommers' Writing Nook 