I unlock the shop in the morning and my palms start to sweat. I push the on button of the sewing machine and my mind goes whirly-whirly. I grab an in-work kilt from its box and the little demon sitting on my shoulder screams in my ear.
"You idiot! What makes you think you can do this?"
This whole kiltmaking thing started because the company I was working for was going under and I still had food to buy and a house to pay for.
I thought it was going to be a small, dinning room, retirement business. Now I've got employees and customers on the order board.
Calm, peacefull, ecstatic, give me a break. I'm so worried that I'm going to screw this up that just thinking about it makes my stomach so upset I think I need to go puke.