These are mild vexations, pesky horseflies buzzing around the ass of Contentment. Now imagine an absent roommate's alarm clock beeping all day behind a locked door, or perhaps an industrious neighbor taking advantage of the early Saturday morning calm to rev up the leaf blower and tidy up his gutters. Now that will cause the blood to throb in a hypertensive temple. Anything that inspires murderous rage ought to qualify as a stressor.
Stress is a thug enjoying recent royal privilege.
People bow to its power over their lives, tiptoe around its voluminous hems. They get massages to relax its grip and gobble valarian and vitamin B to weaken it because, we're advised by an enlightened medical community, it can kill us. Suddenly heavy traffic is related to liver trouble. A crashed computer can lead to heart disease. Worse yet, stress is everywhere.