My mind is a scary place to be. If I weren’t me, I wouldn’t want to be. Contrariwise, since I am me, I spend most of my day freaking out. And because you aren’t me (even though I know you totally want to be), I’m letting you in on what’s been on my mind this last week (because I can tell you’re dying to know).
First to bat: why do Amy’s Cheddar Bunnies taste like band aids? And why did I spend money on something that made me think of licking dirty band aids while I was eating it? Does anyone else get this exquisite taste while eating their organic cheese friends? I think the most disturbing thing about this is that despite the taste, I ate it all.
Supposedly I’m dehydrated. I try to remind myself to drink water, but I forget. This is probably why I get dizzy when I work out with Jillian Michaels. Damn, that B is scary. She should put out a video that shows her just sitting in a chair drinking water and yelling at the camera. I would totally start drinking water then.
How many days until Christmas? Four?!? I should probably give up sleeping and start knitting instead, because these xmas gifts aren’t going to knit themselves. I can’t go into details about my current projects, but here’s a sneak peak into what I’m knitting:
I really wanted to see Black Swan this week, but I can’t knit in the dark. Is there such thing as glow-in-the-dark yarn? If not, I need to get on it. I also need to go to the gym, but I wonder if people will look at me funny if I start knitting on the exercise bike. I think knitting and cycling would go perfectly together. What could go wrong?
I’ve said it a million times before, but I’m absolutely positive that the forces above are uniting against me. They really don’t want me to finish knitting this shawl. I know this because in the past two days:
- At least 20 stitches slipped off my needle while I was showing the shawl to the ladies at my LYS. My face got hot and I was sweating like a banshee as I feverishly tried to replace them onto the needle. I was embarrassed. They probably think I’m a loser. Whatever.
- I was showing them my project because I needed more yarn to finish it. The yarn they had is a different dye lot. It’s mostly noticeable; I’m using it anyways, because I don’t care anymore.
- J stepped on my needle last night and broke it. Why were my needles on the floor? Because he put them there. That’s one mistake he won’t be repeating anytime soon. You should have seen his face. Better yet, you should have seen my face. He felt really bad and he did superglue it back together, so it’s all good.
I realize that it’s slightly pathetic for crying over said broken needle. But I really did feel, at the time, that my soul had shattered into a million pieces. All the anguish and realization that the shawl is in fact the devil reincarnate and is trying to eat me alive, made me believe I was actually dying. I would die never having finished the shawl or knowing why cheddar bunnies taste like band aids.
Last of all, will drinking gin tonight empower or inhibit my knitting abilities? I guess I know enough about gin to know that side effects of drinking gin include: nausea, dizziness, dry mouth, dehydration, and loss of fine motor control related to knitting. Sigh. Why can’t they make alcohol that improves a person’s ability to function? Then I would drink that and go to town with my glow-in-the-dark yarn on an exercise bike, in the dark, eating band-aids.