Day 170

I don't work until 530pm tomorrow yet the pit in my stomach and the dread in my mind are already here. There's no one thing going wrong, it's just a million tiny things that I haven't or can't or won't talk about... And when I try to say something when the moment arises, it comes out the wrong way or is directed at the wrong person because they're the fifth person that shift to do or say whatever... And I so desperately need the money...

I felt a weight lifted from my chest while I was in the studio today working on my little bee trinkets and when I was driving home with the glorious sun beaming down. I want *that* feeling all the time.

I am so tired.