Progress, Paperwork, and Pain

Today was a mixed bag—and that might be the understatement of the year.

Let’s start with the good stuff: after realizing my mistake with uploading Steps One and Two, I pulled them off the site and shifted gears. Instead of rushing the full product lines, I focused on the greeting cards.

All twelve Steps are now up as greeting cards.

They’re honest, emotional, and complete.

And that feels like progress I can stand behind.

It wasn’t just about uploading images—it was about choosing to move with clarity instead of speed. That’s not always easy for me, especially when I feel like I’m racing against my own limitations. But today, I made a decision that felt right in my gut. And I followed through. That matters.

Meanwhile, my tiny co-worker, Nicky, was having a very full day.

This morning, we went out for our usual potty routine—and out of nowhere, a squirrel jumped out of a tree right in front of us. Nicky lost her ENTIRE mind and went absolutely bananas. There was barking. There was lunging. There was full-body vibrating. It was, according to her, a life-altering event.

I had planned to take her for a walk through the city… maybe even stop by to visit Howard, the hotdog man. But after The Great Squirrel Incident™, I made the executive decision to reroute to the dog park instead. She spent nearly an hour running wild and gossiping with her BFF Georgia about the squirrel, the birds, and her growing resume as our office “admin.”

(Yes, I gave her our junk mail. Yes, she shredded it like a little beast. Yes, I got a video, it’s on her Facebook. Be her friend, Nicky Overland)

So on the outside? Today looked kind of fun, kind of productive.

But inside my body?

I’m a 15/10 in pain right now.

It feels like I have a golf ball wedged behind my right eye.

All the teeth on that side are throbbing.

My cheekbone is burning.

My skull feels like it’s being crushed in a vice.

This is the part I can’t soften with humor. This is the reality of living with atypical trigeminal neuralgia. Some days I can push through. Some days I can even laugh. But right now, I’m writing this through tears and grit and sheer will.

And still—I showed up.

I showed up for my business.

I showed up for my art.

I showed up for myself.

And I showed up for my dog, who currently believes squirrels are sky demons sent to test her courage.

So yeah.

Progress, paperwork, and pain.

That was today.

With Love,

Dana & Nicky