Do

Breathe. 1... 2... 3... 4...

I'm so over raping my herbs. Now they're just twiggy little bits standing in the dirt; I've left them in shade, froze them in the freezer, defoliated them, pruned them, de-rooted them, divided them, repotted them... they've suffered more abuse than any of my backyard plants and yet still manage to produce green healthy leaves.

Fucking twits. I'm considering increasing the soil acidity and using more sand instead of humus... hopefully they'll succumb to the stress and give me the oils that I want.

The boyfriend is getting increasingly hard to please. We've traded positions in this relationship; now I'm the one who's unemployed and in an emotional wormhole. Suddenly the prospect of going broke/insane scares me.

Finish my exam and get a job, I say. Doing is another thing altogether.