The Good News: I’ve been working on a new wrap.
It will eventually look like this. My goal is to make it look like that before October, because the color seems to lend itself well to pumpkin patches and marching band competitions. (I really miss the faded out Levi’s that somehow ended up in my suitcase after a 1990 drum corps show. They were perfectly frayed and worn out into a lovely shade of sky blue, and they’re exactly what I want to wear with this wrap. Wrap. To me, a wrap is a sandwich. This morning I used the term heavy-handed incorrectly. I need to knit less and read more. I fear that I’m no longer getting smarter.)
The Bad News: Argh. There seems to be a lot of bad news lately. My kids have decided that they no longer want to ride the bus. (I realize that doesn’t necessarily qualify as bad news. Stick with me.) The way they approached this new transportation plan with me was really quite mature and admirable (they’re not feeling very safe on the bus lately), so there was no way I could turn them down. Because I’ll now be dropping them off and picking them up, I’ll be losing a little over an hour of my day. And speaking of time, I’m finding that I’m already a bit over-extended these days. I realize that sounds so silly because I’m a freelancer! I (mostly) set my own schedule! BUT, it appears that I’ve bitten off a bit more than I can chew (Those damned cliches. Rattlesnakes, indeed.) and two of my current projects are proving to be more than I can handle, and I absolutely despise admitting defeat, but isn’t admitting defeat early on better than doing a crappy job and then running out of time? Last week I got all confused and I embarrassed myself by asking ridiculous questions when presented with the final chapter of an ongoing freelance project, and because of that I’ve been doing some hardcore evaluating of Everything That Currently Eats At My Time as well as Everything That Currently Eats At My Brain. This morning we received some horrible news about a friend’s family, and that news picked us up by the necks and slapped our faces and all we could really do was go buy some sponges (I had a coupon) and stare off into the distance and not say anything.
I’m afraid I’m not doing very well at a number of things, and it’s a bit of a concern and I believe I need to step back and think about this and figure out where my mind is. (I went to college with the wife of Black Francis.) One of my biggest fears is that I’ll become mundane and unmarketable. I’m starting to smell both of those things, and it’s bumming me out. Normally when I put on my self-doubting hat (every few years), I start singing songs about quitting Fluid Pudding. I now know better than that. (I also know that avocados all smooshed up and mixed with diced apples equals a delicious lunch. The only thing that makes it MORE delicious is making a wrap out of it. Wrap! Look what I’ve done! Full circle. Closure. And, scene.)
Scout’s birthday was last week. We celebrated by buying her a sweater and allowing the groomer to remove all of the matted fur.
She’s not happy. She’s also not allowed in the dishwasher. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>