Massive few weeks of learning, stretching, expanding, getting slapped, swiping the blood from my lip and slicking on a little mascara to feel pretty.
the struggle is real
Ever have your eyes snap open at 3:30am on a Sunday and your brain immediately blasts off into the 5th Dimension of; "OMFG WHAT AM I DOING?!?!"
These turbojet-thoughts stitch closely to a 99.87 degree Fahrenheit basal temperature. The person or creature sleeping beside you, (if any living thing has been able to put up with your Anxiety Mess this long), is too close/hot/heavy, there's not enough 02 to go around, and no count on the breath ladder is going to bring you down from this ledge.
So you get up and get to work. And you stare incredulously out the window when the sun comes up hours after you're 23 clicks deep on your retail v. industrial zoning research.
U feel me? Then you must've started a floral studio, too. We should get coffee; I'm on my fourth cup.