I write daily in my morning pages. I write mine in junk journals I've put together with old books, old pictures, and printed facebook statuses from the last decade.
Writing morning pages is supposed to be without judgement. But I still have it, it just must be dismissed. I hear, "that's not important," as I write the same routine morning items that I wrote the day before. But the point isn't what is written, its the process. It's for me, so I do it.
I'm getting over 2 months of stomach illness. Well, I'm not sure its actually gone a Sway but all the tests haven't yielded answers, and the presciptions I can afford, haven't yielded relief. But much of the day, things are better. So I'll say getting over.
I have hoarded fabric. Every extra dime to my name goes into a fabric order and now I have 3 shelves full. So I guess I hold off on future orders. I don't want to rush myself. I want to savor all the learning that can be done with those bolts.
