peeling back the layers.

It turns out that change, (even good change), is stressful. This past week I have been a big bundle of nerves. Not sleeping, grumpy, anxious, and seemingly unable to pinpoint just what exactly is bothering me.

Everything should be fine. Better than fine, it should be fantastic. I'm:

• working from home
• not feeling pulled in a million directions
• able to pick Max up from school and take him to therapy myself

and...

• Max's daycare for the summer is all set up
• I've started working on my book

So why do I still have this unsettled feeling? Is it that I'm finally really going for it? Working for myself, and that I now have to hustle to make sure I can actually make enough money to do this? Probably... yes, definitely, yes.

The ups and downs of every day knock me sideways. Should I take this job? Should I go make lattes at Starbucks? Take the night shift at a bakery? I don't know...I don't know. I made a friend a promise that I would stick it out, and not give up when the going inevitably gets tough. To that I say, anyone looking for a writer?