Comfort Zones

So it's 10:15 pm and I just got in bed and said aloud, "oh crap I forgot my blog post." So this is written hastily on my phone while Brian brushes his teeth and I get snuggled in the covers. 

I've been doing a lot of thinking about comfort zones lately. It sounds like such a good thing. Comfort, cozy, happy, yay. But actually they're such a crutch. I'm finding I shouldn't live my life in the comfort zone and just sporadically venture out of it. I should live my life pushing myself to try new things, and only retreat back to the comfort zone when I really need it, like if my stress levels get up to an 8 or 9. I'm learning to make myself view moderate stress levels (6 or 7) as tolerable, regular, good for me, and not a reason to freak out. 

Yes I rate my stress levels. Subjective Units of Distress help this happy little math major turn anxiety into numbers.  Try it; it's weirdly satisfying.

When I was a dummy I arrived to retreat to my comfort zone. Now I'm challenging myself to reserve the comfort zone for the extreme occasion. It kinda sucks and it kinda rocks. 

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