Warning: The following paragraph consists of nothing but whining. Skip it and I'll write about glass in the next one.
I'm back at work. It is soul-killing and destroying any patchy creativity I ever had. I have been putting in 12 hours at a time and come home too tired and in too much pain to do more than throw together something vaguely nourishing and fall asleep on the couch until it's time to go to bed so I can toss and turn in the more traditional setting.
Sounds good to me. I'm off tomorrow. I ought to be able to make a bead or two, and will try to make one or two tonight.