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Every morning I wake up with a renewed commitment to learning to be what I am not.  This is the day in which I will sew a straight seam, cut a piece of fabric precisely, follow the directions written by the pattern maker: stay stitch, clip notches, etc.  I will not presume to know more than the experts.  I will always iron.  No more jumping ahead, rebellion, daydreaming, "self-expression," whatever.


Each morning here is that sting of self-doubt, the chances of a wearable garment slim.