 At my lowest of lows, still I know that I am the stuff of stars. I share base genetic properties with the mightiest of oaks, The brightest super nova and everything under the microscope. When I feel I can't dig myself any deeper, so far from my goals, The weight of the world wearing down with all my regret, Still I know that I am worthy and capable, with just so much in store. I am and I can and I will, if I just still know, go, sow and grow. My improbable existence is magnificent, even when I feel devoured. All purpose is mine to define and relish, and yet so invaluable. Whatever I decided, wherever I go, whoever I become. Still I know that I owe the universe everything and am owed nothing. Regret after regret, hurtle after hurtle, rejection, disappointment, Still I know, though it may not show in my graceless dance in the undertow, And all of their obvious doubt, my life and ability beckons so much more. 
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(formerly "Bare Barista Threads" and "Memoirs of a Pizza Girl")With a year of delivering pizza, two and a half years as a barista, and some more time in the trenches, I have plenty of stories, thoughts, and musings. The days that threatened to break me all the while built me. I want to help others in my profession view their work as an opportunity, too. This is my soap box. Archives
June 2018
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