Kelley

Every single thing he says and does feels like a toddler figuring out where the boundaries are. However, instead of crayons on the walls, it's effecting huge groups of people. I'm tired, and we're only 2 weeks in.

Someone didn't weave in Teddy Swims ends. If this means it's acceptable for me to leave ends out on my crochet pieces, I'm here for it! #grammys #crochet #fiberarts

Calls and text messages have flooded me in the last 72 hours from friends and colleagues in Sierra Leone and elsewhere: Are my meds going to be cut off? Am I going to die? I don't know what to tell them. I don't know what to tell anyone. Hope is my whole jam, but I feel very distant from it.

I managed to pack it just fine, but AHHHHH.

Today's dose of anxiety: I'm helping a friend pack, and she says "This was a wedding gift from Dave Brubeck." K. No pressure. Definitely won't break this very fragile treasure.

Marked safe from having to make up new sins like "empathy" in order to justify being a terrible person.

Me (with tiny pools of knowledge about both film and sports): is this the Snyder cut?

I miss-stamped a package today and it read "RAGILE," which, honestly, kind of describes my mental state.

A finished embroidery hoop sits in my lap. It features a stitched illustration of Strega Nona waving her hands over a spaghetti filled cauldron and up above her head it says “Girl Dinner” in black capital letters on white sparkly linen.

I’m kind of terrible at social media right now and keep forgetting to post. But today I made a thing to make myself happy and had to share.