

I saw my grandma a few weeks ago and gave her a small embroidery project. It felt a little silly and childish but she taught me to sew, and I guess I wanted her to see that it’s something I’ve kept up with.
I’m probably not going to have kids, which I really hate, but I’ve taught lots of kids to sew, so maybe that’s close to this.











I’ve emphasized the last one more than everything else, and it’s only ended up hurting me. Feels like I would be happier if I could feel “good” working a 9-5 that didn’t help anyone. Teaching is the kind of thing that slowly kills you.