Extractor Contraption

Guess what? I still haven't had the opportunity to use my butane extractor. Conditions never seem right, and I don't create a situation in which they would be right -- I always find a reason to do this 'later'. I don't really know what I'm afraid of. Maybe that it won't work? That in order to obtain anything useful I'd have to use the thing 30 times in a row in a single sitting? Then I have to remind myself, nothing in this business comes easy. Absolutely nothing. Take distillation, for example. That takes all day long. No joke. And then it requires hours of babysitting and fussing around with valves and water levels and seepage. Creating perfume can take months, even years, to get the formulation right where you want it. So why was I thinking extracting my own oils was going to be any different than everything else I do? Maybe it boils down to one of my biggest character problems -- the fear of success. One might think the fear of failure would stop me trying something new, but that's not the case at all. I'm good at failing. Hell, I fail at something 10 times before breakfast every day, so failure is a friend to me -- a not so welcome friend, but a friend nonetheless. It's success that scares the pants off me. Because if I succeed in extracting beautiful, useable oils with my little honey bee extractor gadget, I will become obsessed. I don't handle obsession well. My environment suffers from my obsessions. People are ignored, situations are left to play out on their own with negative results, the house begins to show signs of neglect, dishes piling up and all that, and I am unstoppable in my single mindedness.

And yet again, I've laid the foundation for creating another bad condition in which to begin using the extractor. Puh!

I just need to get around myself.