Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps. . .

. . . I may make beads tomorrow. Or perhaps not.

I don't know what's wrong with me lately. Any time I think about melting glass, I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, closely followed by an anxiety attack. A huge part of me does want to make beads, but the smallest apathetic part, seems to be winning. I hope tomorrow that may change.

I love the smell of my studio. It's not something I can actually put into words, other than to say that the memory *behind* the smell is what draws me in there. I've actually gone into my studio every day the past week in a vain attempt to elicit some sort of excitement about the 'good old days' when I made beads for a living. The good news is that a small part of me *does* react to it, and the distinct possibility that I may melt glass again. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I will be able to follow through with that.

I think a lot of it is to do with the dramas going on in my life at the moment. A huge part is Russ being out of work. All the memories of Ansett's demise back in 2001 are flooding back, and although I try my hardest not to become despondent, it's not easy. Then there's my job, which is getting me down big time. I put in 9 hours a day and I'm barely scraping together enough to make ends meet.

Oh, and then there's my back pain. As you may know if you're a regular reader of my blog (all 2 of you), I had a massive exacerbation of back pain in March, and its pretty much been with me ever since then. The back pain itself has eased off slightly (at least I can walk now), but now I have the added bonus of sciatica - something I have never had before. I first noticed it about 2 weeks ago whilst working in my day job - I use a footpedal for the transcription, and every time I lifted my left leg, I noticed I was getting a burning/stinging type sensation in the back of my left thigh. Since then, its moved to my butt, the side of my left thigh and down into my calf. And sleeping, or I should say, TRYING to sleep, has become a nightmare. I cannot get comfortable no matter what position I try. When I first try to get out of bed each morning, it's truly farcical with a combination of moaning, wincing, and then finally rolling out of bed.

I suppose a referral to an orthopaedic surgeon isn't far off. I've been putting it off for years, but it's quickly reaching the stage where I'm no doubt going to have to have some sort of investigation, such as a CT or MRI scan. I don't even want to entertain the idea of back surgery - what with Russ going in for surgery on his back fairly soon, and all the associated costs (and we don't have private health insurance). And in the meantime, I have to keep plodding along in my day job, which is only exacerbating the problem all the more. And that in itself is worrying me - with Russ out of work, I HAVE to be working - there is simply no choice.

I'm not sure how much longer I can go on like this, and frankly, I'm just sick of it all. I feel like running (hobbling) away and starting again. Unfortunately, wherever you go, there you are. I'm realistic enough to know I can't run away from my problems - I just have to find a way through them.

Anyway, tomorrow is another day, and maybe things will improve. I live in hope.