First up the good- I taught yesterday at The Bead Trail in Cheshire and had a great day. It was lovely to meet up with old friends, discover new ones and put faces to name for people I have emailed, chatted with on Face book and who even made samples for Geometric Beadwork.

The shop is lovely and I treated myself to a few things, including these 3mm Swarovski pearls which are perfect for a project I have been experimenting with. I'm keeping the details of it secret for now but it will, of course, be geometric and use the pearls (and others like them) along with cylinder beads to make a bangle and a matching pendant. It's a project I originally began years ago and then put aside as I wasn't satisifed with how it looked. But a few years on I figured out one a tiny step which helps and am now happy with it.

That's the end of the good. Now onto the events which have sent my stress levels through the roof.

On Friday I was so sure the book was going to print. The printers, being sensible people, won't print without me approving a final proof (and of course paying) but then they didn't send me the proof...

I'm not sure if they had 'friday-itis' but I sat in front of my laptop, clutching my phone, all day just in case they contacted me and they didn't. When I rang one by one the people I needed to speak to had headed home until there was no-one left.

My stress levels were high but I figured it was ok, I could approve the proof on Monday and it should just all be in time for the book to arrive here and be sent out before I head off to New York to teach. This is a self imposed deadline but I really want to post them all out ASAP so that everyone can have them and I can travel without the stress of knowing they still need sending.

Then I rememebred I wouldn't be at home on Monday and therefore not able to see a proof- delaying everything by at least a day. So I wrote a pleading email to the printers explaining that and hoping it would all still be possible.

I spent the rest of the weekend in a stare of high anxiety trying to work out what their response would be and how I could be prepared to post all the books out in possibly one day.

Then Sunday night I remembered my ESTA for travel to the States had expired and I needed to apply for a new one online. No problem. Except I couldn't find my passport. I had it a month ago coming back from France but seem to have lost it sometime since then.

I looked online about replacing a passport and it seems for a replacement you have to wait a week.

I travel in 12 days.

Except to apply you need an appointment.

Which may take 2 weeks.

So for my trip in 12 days I may have to wait 3 weeks to get my passport. Even in my tired state I knew the maths didn't add up.

Cue a frantic search of the whole house looking for it until 2am, a bit of sleep and me leaving to teach at 5am. Not a good start to a Monday.

Fortunately the printers rang me at 8.45 am assuring me that as long as I approve the proof Tueday all should be well. I relaxed a bit (putting the missing passport to the back of my mind as there was nothing I could do about it today) and had a lovely day at The Bead Trail.

4pm I headed off home and my phone finally got some reception again having not had it all day...then I discovered a voice-mail from the printers.

I immediately rang them and found out that they could print the book in time.

Phew.

But not bind it.

Now I don't know about you but I think what takes a pile of papers from just being a pile of papers and turns it into a book is the binding, kind of an essential part. I needed 1,000 books, not 132,000 bits of paper.

I ended the conversation in a daze with no idea what to do. It's too late to try and find another printer so do I just go ahead with this one and accept they may not be here in time for me to send them out before I go? I wanted to cry.

I began my long journey of 3 trains home exhausted, stressed, worried about the printing and the missing passports. I'd left the house so tired I hadn't dressed for the weather and left my gloves, scarves etc sitting at home. I was frozen, exhausted and oh so hungry as I'd been so stressed I'd only eaten an apple all day and it was catching up with me.

Then at Crewe I realised there were two possible trains to catch to get me home. One would take 2 hours back to London. One would take nearly 4 hours. There was no-one to ask which one was which and no way to get from one platform to the other in case I made the wrong choice.

I made my decision and ran to the platform (with my torn achilles tendon- ouch)

I had one minute until the train arrived and the shop on the platform was shutting up but in my pitiful state I convinced them to sell me the last sandwich and a cup of tea to keep me warm. As I paid the train arrived and I jumped on it.

Yes! It seemed I had chosen the right one and I would be home in around 3 hours.

I settled down, holding the tea to heat my fingers and uncurl them (boy it was cold) and then discovered that I had somehow dropped the sandwich before getting on the train.

I could never have imagined that in the midst of all this it would be a lost sandwich which would push me over the edge.

By the time I got home it was all I could do to get into bed and hope the day would soon be over.