Having an Oura ring is both a blessing and a curse. Not in a 50-50 kind of way, though. More like 30-70. Maybe 35-65, on a good day.
I wanted an Oura ring mainly for tracking my body temperature and my sleep. The fact that it also tracks, amongst other things, my stress levels, is very handy. However, being able to pinpoint the moments – and therefore the causes – of my stress, by the minute, yet not actually do anything to stop them, only makes me more stressed.
This is a reading from a couple of days ago:
The part I’ve circled was when Louis Catorze was screaming and screaming at the two gentlemen who had come to fit our new washing machine. It was excruciating. Cat Daddy and I hid in the living room and just pretended we couldn’t hear it. Then, when the machine was all installed, Cat Daddy gave the fitters a generous tip and we all pretended the screaming hadn’t happened.
The fitters said something about using the tip money to buy “breakfast” between jobs. But, by that time, it was long past breakfast. After enduring Catorze’s insufferable screaming all the way through their job, they probably ended up heading to the nearest pub for vodka shots.
And anyone who says ten o’clock in the morning is too early for vodka shots has never had to live though the pain of Catorzian screaming.
Cat Daddy, later: “Cats are supposed to give you pleasure. Ours just causes pain. Bastard cat.”
Indeed. WHAT a bastard cat.
*EDIT: I have now had my dental surgery (general anaesthetic) and, would you believe, my stress levels rose when I CAME HOME from hospital. I wonder why that might be?
For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com
louiscatorze.com 
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