SaylorRaye Creates: The Black Death

I hate being sick. With a Passion.
It is, by far, the worst feeling in the world. Give me heartache, give me oppression, give me torture. Ok, maybe not torture. I would rather feel almost anything else in the world, than sick. It's not just the icky feeling, it's that I can't make it stop! It is completely out of my control, even with self medication. There is nothing I can do to help myself. Yes, I can try to knock myself out with non-branded green nighttime cough syrup. But sometimes, even that is not enough. I feel so terrible, that I can't even sleep! I hate that achy, snotty, throbby feeling. It makes me want to kill something. Maybe myself, maybe a bird, maybe my boss. Something.
In better, less violent news,
I sold another hat on Etsy! This time it's a little less exciting, because it was for my sister in law. (But still really, really exciting. Just not Realyl Really Really exciting. You get the difference, right?)
I have a confession to make, I feel ~~slightly~~ really guilty charging her for it, even though I needed to cover the shipping, but at the same time, I'm thrilled that I have another paying customer! I even ~~really~~ slightly regret telling her I would make others for her for free.
I'm not sure if this is just because I have such a warped sense of "family" values, or if it's something other sellers experience. Like, a feeling that what I've made isn't nessecarily worth what others are paying for it. Like, making it already fulfilled something for me, and selling it is just gravy on top. Maybe that's not a good simile, because I LOVE Gravy, a lot. Yeah, for me, it's the potatoes I could give up. So, making the hat is like the gravy, and selling it is like the potatoes. 'Cause, man cannot live on gravy alone, right?
Ok, I am now making no sense, even to myself.
Here's some pix. enjoy!