Unraveled

Oh man.

I am starting to wonder if it is Spring Fever, or if my spring break did me more harm than good. Maybe it's allergies. Global Warming? Maybe?

O, People Who Read This Blog, hear my cries! Or rather, read them! For I have lost my mind. Really this time.

I can't find a certain prescription medication that is rather important. Well, it would be more important if A Certain Someone did not live 700 miles away, but still. It's just gone! How does that happen? I also was literally 4 miles from a yarn store in a totally different town (and looked it up online and it looked great) and didn't go! I didn't even go in! Part of it was because I didn't want to leave the dog in the car and have her fret over me while I shopped for Stuff I Don't Need (again, I dispute the validity of that word), but the rest of me was just sort of uninterested. I have more than I know what to do with as it is, and plenty of other projects to attend to (like the two day assembly of the Scadanavian Furnishing (is it right for that to be singular? seems strange. anyway). I finally bought journals that I wanted to try out, and was ready to begin the practice of devoting some time to journalling (which I know Ricë would have been proud of) and now I can't find them. How will I make lists and get it all back together? I can't go back to using napkins and empty envelopes. I can't. I can't. I can't. Please don't make me.

Everything is so out of hand right now that I have had no choice but to do what The Old Saying says: when the going gets tough, the tough pretend it isn't happening and knit socks instead. So I have. i've almost finished with the first sock, and it's been magical. Boring, but magical. I think it would be more fun if I had trusted my abilities a bit more, and not started out with something in plain stockinette. But I will tell you this: I have tried that sock on, and although it is not finished, I can tell you that the one foot lucky enough to enjoy that sock rejoiced. There are few things more simple and wonderful than handknit socks. I am sure of it, and so is my right foot (although the toes on that foot remain skeptical). I can't wait to let the other foot in on this.

Am I the only one? I have a black belt in Procrastination, and I am using every bit of my skills this week. I find myself staring at the tiny little beginnings of the return of my hostas for way too long, forcing the dog to linger under the camellia trees with me for longer than either of us need to, and just generally pretending that there is nothing else that I need to be doing.

For shame.