Jamie's own most miserable days began when a stock on which she'd bet heavily began to slide. Every day, she'd skulk into the office, a pit in her stomach, proposing quid pro quos with God to make the nosedive stop and praying her boss wouldn't again summon her into his office to shout about how incompetent she was. The slide lasted four months and dragged the fund down by $30 million: superstress - perhaps even megafuckingstress - defined. How, I wonder, would she have reacted if I'd told her that relief would come if she just started preparing her own food, meditating daily, journaling? 'During that time, I had so much pressure on me that the last thing I would have wanted was more things to add to my to-do list,' she says. 'All I wanted to do when I wasn't at work was to veg out in front of American Idol.'
