The last time I focused on my health it was with a trainer. Every week we'd get together and talk about my food intake before we worked out. Doing this helped me see another pattern in my eating: stress cookies.
At my old job there were always cookies or candy or cupcakes out on the table. And, whenever I had a stressful encounter with a customer, I'd go have a stress cookie to calm down.
Stress cookies have been a part of my diet for a long time. They reared their ugly head yesterday in the form of stress donuts (no cookies available yesterday).
I was pretty successful at avoiding the stress donuts with the first customer. She was actually an old family friend that we'd stopped contact with after she had a mental breakdown and was behaving in a dangerous manner. She tracked me down at work, said beautiful things about Mom and my family, and mentioned that she's living in her car. I could remember how it was when I was little, playing with her kids, and I could see how much has changed. Though I wanted to help like I would if she were my mom, her story kept changing and I knew I would be sorry if I helped the way I wanted to. So, I offered library resources, helped her look for housing and assistance programs, and promised to send her a picture of me in a cap and gown. After she left, I went to the staff patio, cried for a sec, and then walked around the building til my eyes weren't red.
It was the second customer that did me in. Her son has been in and out of the hospital, she can't hold down a job because she's taking care of him, and she racked up fines that she can't pay. She begged for my help. Offered to scrub floors, do anything needed to work off the fines. I've been in a similar position before. I've taken care of a family member and been trapped by those circumstances. I knew I could take one more thing off her plate, so I waived her fines. After a tearful hug, promises to remember me in her prayers, and many thanks, I went to the break room and had a stress donut.
The first bite was so, so good.
The second bite was meh.
The third bite was kinda gross.
I threw the other half away and went back on desk to help more people. I went for a run when I got home.
I talked about it with my friend last night. She said that she never reaches for stress cookies, and she thinks it's because our jobs are so different. In retail (she's a store manager) people don't come in looking for a warm, safe place. Most don't let sales associates see their mental problems. The "difficult" customers are either thieves or entitled assholes. In libraries though, we see and help everyone, no matter their circumstances. We are literacy specialists, babysitters, social workers, house hunters, job finders, medical researchers, counsellors, IT help desk workers, and so many more things all in the course of one day. We work with the sane and the disturbed, babies and elderly, rich and poor, weak and powerful, the hopeful and the disillusioned. It's a roller coaster ride from start to finish, and throughout the day our guiding principles are to be kind and provide excellent customer service. In retail, you kinda know what you're going to get. Every day is a surprise at the library.
As my friend said: no wonder you reach for stress cookies. There's no time to do anything else when the teaming masses need your help.