On a Friday afternoon in January, the tingling started. Unfortunately, not the sexy kind. That pins and needles sensation was moving through my hands in a “whooshing” sensation. Whoosh, the pins move in; whoosh, the pins move out, in a rhythmic motion throughout the end of the work day. Concerned, I ran to the resident …
Me Without Caffeine
A practice of vulnerability, self-exploration and a sharing of lessons and things.
Me Without Caffeine 