It’s a month until Christmas and as a maker, life is chaos. Between fulfilling wholesale orders, selling at weekend craft markets (who signed us up for these markets anyways? Oh wait a minute, that could have been meJ) and replenishing stock I find myself working alone in the studio with only the radio for company.
There are few things that really irritate me. Buying a lip balm and smoothing it on your lips only to feel grittiness - do you know what I mean? There is no reason for that silliness (unless of course you are wanting an exfoliating lip massage.) Off topic here but I am amazed at the people who want to buy a salt scrub for their face? No, they don't want the gentle sugar scrub we make and sell, they want the hard grittiness. But I digress.
Two days later and I’ve recovered from the horrors of running. I keep replaying the night over and over again, the sheer terror I felt when the nice running teacher “D” said “now run”. I didn’t take time to enjoy any of it, I couldn’t’ catch my breath after the first minute of running and the two minutes of walking didn’t help. It was panic that started to get to me.