Insomnia, anyone?

This is a long one, folks...

Not being able to sleep is great! Wonderful!
I'm getting so much done!
They should bottle this stuff!
...oops, wait a minute, there...

This stinks.

More on that in a moment, but here are today's completed (or almost) projects:
The Hippie Bag is DONE except for sewing in the liner and the zipper - I think I need professional help.
Tonight, though not pictured, is my one-armed bear, whose arm was unraveled and re-done.
AND, (drum roll, please)...
I started and finished a t-shirt handbag!

I can't tell you how proud of myself I am for actually SEWING!!
Yay!

I grabbed some random tees and other goodies to practice my stitchery on at the $1 Sunday Sale at Jet Rag. I figure anything I paid a buck for is not going to cause me to lose sleep for ruining.

Also, here's Max the kitten, 'cause he's cute and getting better.

Ha! Lose sleep...I'm hilarious.

Well, on to the personal crap.
I found out on Friday that my two best friends' mother is to begin hospice care in her long and brave battle against cancer.
I held it together on the phone, told my mom, then went home and lost my mind.
Seriously.
After discovering that my coffee had been ground too finely, I called Victor's (on Franklin) and gave them holy hell.
After that, I cried and cried, and woke up Saturday morning in my clothes in a chair in the living room.

Since then, I just can't sleep...I think of arms that need trimming, purses that need sewing, how exactly one might sew in a zipper, scripts I have to write for work, music I need to pick, which fashion shows are going on that day, how many times I can really listen to the same stories repeat on BBC radio at 3:00 a.m., what to wear if I can ever get to sleep and then wake up, curly or straight, did I pick up the cleaning, and...are my friends OK?

Can I do something?
Anything?

I've known them all my life, and though the news wasn't a surprise, I'm sad, helpless, and have suddenly decided that I don't like it when the phone rings.

I should probably be more eloquent about life and death and peace and bravery, but I can't tonight.
They've all gone through so much, and this is hard.

It's late, and maybe Craig Ferguson will lull me into a dreamy state filled with Scotch accents.

Yes, I did go to apologize to the guy at Victor's, and he couldn't have been sweeter.

There's a lesson in there, I think.

Night all.