Stress has all sorts of negative effects on one’s health and body.

I’m under a lot of stress right now. The biggies: new job, new house, new schools for my kids, car breaking down, very little money. You get the idea.

So aside from the elevated heart rate, the zero patience, and the total exhaustion, there is another side effect that no one ever talks about.

The not caring effect.

It’s probably tied to the whole “no patience” thing, but today I kept a list of the things I absolutely did not care about because my current problems definitely trump everyone else on the entire planet’s  problems.

I did not care about the poor woman ahead of me in line at the pizza shop who took a full 15 minutes to place her order and managed to ask more questions about a salad than I ever thought possible to ask about a salad. And it’s a pizza shop, lady. If you are asking for a slice without cheese or sauce than you are asking for bread. Go to the supermarket and get out of line.

And I also did not care that the 12 year old behind the counter told me that it would take 15 minutes for my five slices and fries. This is a pizza shop. If pizza is your primary product, it should be made a bit faster. At least faster than the slice with no sauce and no cheese which came out of the oven way before my standard slices.

But I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about the family in the van in front of me in the middle of traffic who were drawn in stickered caricatures on the back windshield.

Who thought of that ridiculous idea? Because really? Your smiling stick figure family and dog are clashing with your Honor Student bumper sticker. And your announcement that you have three alarmingly emaciated children just makes me want to ram the back of your Honda Odyssey with my falling apart Accord.

But I didn’t care.

I didn’t care when the stay at home mom announced to the cashier at Target how exhausted she was because she had to wait in line so long. She must have  a particularly difficult life if standing in a line is exhausting. And while I looked at her perfectly coiffed hair and fresh-from-the-gym yoga pants, I resisted the urge to shake my discount soda can and open it up in her exhausted face, because if waiting in line is the most tiring thing you have to do, well then, you need to do some laundry.

But I didn’t care about her.

I didn’t care when the barista screwed up my coffee because she was too busy flirting with the guy in front of me who looked like he could have been an actor but was more likely a pedophile.  And if you can’t handle, “One tall coffee, black,” I don’t think you should be working in Starbucks.

I didn’t care when the Genius at the Genius Bar in the Apple Store went on Google to find the answer to my question. Really? That’s what makes you a genius? Because had I known that there was this site called “Google” well, then, golly gee, I never would have made this Genius Bar appointment. You ARE a genius.

I didn’t care when I walked into my new house, which is filled with so many boxes that I’m worried my neighbors might stage an Extreme Hoarding intervention, to find that the plumber never showed and the sinks were not working, and the roof was leaking.

I didn’t care.

Stress does that.

I fell into my couch, closed my eyes, and didn’t care about anything.

Until my friend called and asked me if I was thinner because, “People who are stressed out tend to lose weight!”

I hung up on her. And ate a donut.

And I totally didn’t care.

Stress does that.