Don't Stress!

It's easier said than done,
It's the way my brain is wired.
A little thing can set it off,
Like being a bit too tired.

Sometimes it's a change of plan
Or toast crumbs on the side,
And the incorrect stacking of washing up
Is something I can't abide!

I know I should just 'chill out' a bit,
It really would be best.
Deep down I know that a wrinkled sheet
Is not a karmic test.

But if you asked those around me,
They'd say that I was blithe,
Though on occasion there are things
That make my insides writhe.

Little things, stupid things,
That muck up my digestion.
They make me need the loo
Or cause colonic congestion.

But "TMI!" I hear you cry,
So I shall say no more,
But please when you're around me,
Just shut the bloody door!