I have been working so, so, so hard this week, trying to finish the last of my wreath orders that are late. I have mostly been working on the 13 large boxwood wreaths and am mostly done. I have worked all day, stayed up all night then worked the entire next day when I returned home from Thanksgiving. Since then, I have been working hard, nonstop, every day.
My fingers! They have the top layer of skin peeled from my each of my fingertips, bloody hangnails, small blisters where parts of my fingers have continually rubbed some part of a tool over and over. The worst is what I assume is a small but deep cut on the end of my left index fingertip. I have bandaids on the ends of every finger that keep fraying as I continue to work with them. Even typing now is not easy but at least not painful with the bandaids.
I was so excited to start decorating for Christmas. My creativity had really kicked in and I had all sorts of ideas - inside and out. I even watched Elf this morning, but I just could not make a smaller boxwood wreath. I was making the most idiotic of mistakes and finally realized I had to walk away, but not before that awful feeling washed over me.
I do not feel like writing about how I feel, but no need to. I actually thought, as the realization of the despair sunk in, I was feeling *exactly* like "Runaway Train".
I was wrong. I do still think in music.