I found Pickles.
Blending into her surroundings.
It’s obviously her turn in the orange chair.
I don’t have an orange chair. This one came home with one of the kids and, just to jar me out of my aesthetically calming environment, somehow made it downstairs to the living room. Still, if it helps Pickles blend …
You haven’t heard from me as I’ve gone into one of my hypochondria dips.
It could have been the fluoride thing. It doesn’t take much.
I haven’t exactly gone into a fetal position but now I have this weird feeling in my chest.
I just know it’s bad …
I feel doom lurking. All the things that I love to do are potential death traps.
When I talk to P about my worries that I’m dying, he just says, we’re all dying. That doesn’t help. When I talked to the doctor about my ominous chest feeling, he just says it’s a mini panic attack trying to get out. He could be wrong.
Florence Nightingale was a hypochondriac. Apparently she spent 50 odd years in bed thinking she was going to die at any minute. She lived to be 90.
Oh the irony …
I don’t want to be a Florence Nightingale, but it sure as hell is hard to get out of bed some mornings – especially if one of the only things that you want to get out of bed for is to go into the studio.
The Death Trap!
So, I’m just going to have a little pity party here. Better out than in – right.
And then I’m going to get up and pretend I’m not a hypochondriac.
It doesn’t work but I’m going to go with it anyway.
O.K. Pity Party Over …
Now, I’m going to list this on Etsy, and post the pair of earrings I sold last night :)
I think I’m up to $300 now. Going for $500 before I send it off to charity.
Oh, and look what I found yesterday.
They sell for $5 and they say that every $5 spent goes to Africa – so I guess that means all of it :)
You can find them – HERE.
Great gifts for young people. Or even old people.
Maybe they’ve got one for hypochondriacs …
It’s going to be a good day :)