I'm always strung at this frequency

My most recent work project has been to help put together a mobile "Stress Relief" Clinic for students to utilize as they approach the end of classes and the uber-dreaded exam period. Coordinating with other departments on campus, we created a safe-haven for the frazzled: aromatherapy, hot tea, chocolate, tips for relaxing at the keyboard and in exams, and more personal massage devices than you could possibly know what to do with-- it is quite the operation when it's all set up.
Now, I am definately the person to organize such a thing. I enjoyed researching various stress relief techniques and working with staff members I don't often see. I relish including Hershey's Hugs and Kisses in the line-up of stress busters: "While they might not have enough Cocoa to actually aid mood elevation, they are a reminder of how important your support system is. Hugs from friends can be a major help on super-stressful days." (I'm quite proud of that, really). I can design media, poster the town, and make phone calls. I am the person for all of those jobs.
I am not, however, the woman to present this wonderful clinic to passers-by.
1) Organization--that's my bag. I stand in awe of those who can approach without invitation. I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm not a sales person by nature; I love the stockroom.
2) I thrive on stress. I accomplished more today, when my schedule was booked solid, than I have in a week (that's not exactly true as it is the last week of classes so I've been very productive this particular week... but as a general statement, it's more true than false). I love having places to be and people to see. When that is missing, I find it entirely too easy to put things off.
3) I am high-strung. Here, I'm not referencing the previous post's "snob"-bery, but rather that I am simple not a relaxed individual. Even when fully relaxed I'm still a bit tense-- it's part of my charm.
Thanks are due:
a) steller organization (that was my very own cyper-back-pat)
b) the wonderful skill and kindness of friends and co-workers who took pity on my poor selling skills and made the program a success.

So, now I'm at home watching Dr. Dolittle. Not that terrible monstrosity they made a few years ago, but the 1967 movie-musical staring the indomitable Rex Harrison. No one can speak-sing like ol' Rex.

Polynesia (the parrot): You could converse in Polar Bear and Python
Dr. Dolittle: And I would curse in fluent Kangaroo
P: If people asked you, "Can you speak Rhinocerous?"
D: I'd say, "Of courserous! Can't you?"
P: You know I can.

It's also quite possible that this movie influenced the forming of my young feminist leanings:

Emma (the much-too-young love interest):
You see a man can be as rude as he likes,
crude as he likes,
lude as he likes, too.
But a girl must be discreet as she can,
sweet as she can,
neat as she can, too.
But that's not the life
that I want to lead.
Normal and formal
and homespun tweed.
I need the freedom
to go where I please.

I don't really get the "homespun tweed" reference, but it's all there. No wonder I was hero worshipping suffragetes at the tender age of 7.

However, it is the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - ish whimsy that I truly adore. So I'll leave you with the following, sung by a Irish fisherman to his too-wise-for-his-age 8 year old companion.

My friend the doctor says
the stars are made of lemon drops
the bigger ones are lollipops and ice.
The colds have shops
up on the tops
that sell you sweets and soda-pops.
What do they call the place? Isn't it Paradise?

My friend the doctor says
that every time it starts to rain
and people run indoors again in swarms--
if your remain
out in the rain
you'll think you're drinkin' pink champagne!--
and you'll spend your life
prayin' for thunderstorms!