Portfolio: Not mySelf: Not mySelf 2020: Not mySelf; 19 Jan 20

This isn’t photo related but it is concept related. I have a 2018 F150 SXT 4x4 truck. I just did the yearly inspection a couple weeks ago. Everything was perfect. Then the other day the check engine light came on and my heart hit the floor followed by an anxiety attack. We just had Christmas and then a birthday for our youngest, and another birthday coming up in a couple weeks. Financially, the timing of a CEL is awful. I prayed it was just something like spark plugs when I took it in today to have it checked. And my educated guess was right. Just spark plugs. It took way longer than it probably should have, but I managed to replace all 8 spark plugs with minimal help... and a ladder. Ha! My point though isn’t that I’m short and can hardly reach into my truck. It’s that for the first time in a couple years (since we moved here at least), I was sort of excited about DOING SOMETHING. I got my hands dirty. I got tired. And it was nice to feel that accomplishment. My dear friend calls this “remission” from the depression and PTSD. It was awesome. Just had music blasting and my oldest helping me not lose bolts and stuff.
Not mySelf; 19 Jan 20

This isn’t photo related but it is concept related. I have a 2018 F150 SXT 4x4 truck. I just did the yearly inspection a couple weeks ago. Everything was perfect. Then the other day the check engine light came on and my heart hit the floor followed by an anxiety attack. We just had Christmas and then a birthday for our youngest, and another birthday coming up in a couple weeks. Financially, the timing of a CEL is awful. I prayed it was just something like spark plugs when I took it in today to have it checked. And my educated guess was right. Just spark plugs. It took way longer than it probably should have, but I managed to replace all 8 spark plugs with minimal help... and a ladder. Ha! My point though isn’t that I’m short and can hardly reach into my truck. It’s that for the first time in a couple years (since we moved here at least), I was sort of excited about DOING SOMETHING. I got my hands dirty. I got tired. And it was nice to feel that accomplishment. My dear friend calls this “remission” from the depression and PTSD. It was awesome. Just had music blasting and my oldest helping me not lose bolts and stuff.