I have a part of my brain that keeps asking me when I am going to get a
real job. It asks less often now that I have volunteer work outside the
house than it did when I was staying at home trying to write fiction.
This is part of the whole idea that "making beautiful things doesn't
count as a valid thing for Stef to be doing seriously" that I'm
And then once I deal with that idea, I'll have to deal with the one that
says "But you're not skilled enough. What you're making isn't really
beautiful. Other folks started earlier and are ahead of you, so you
might as well stop bothering and buy their stuff instead."