The Knitting Revolutionary

Everything hurts...

I've taken today off sick - work has a conference day, half of which will be lectures and half of which will be "activities" (mine was dru yoga which I was actually looking forward to), followed by a dinner dance tonight.

Well, I laid my cute dinner outfit on the end of the bed last night ready for it, but my body had other ideas, and woke me up in the middle of the night feeling pretty crap. Yep. Time to menstruate, darling, and I'm giving you two choices, you can either drug yourself up to the eyeballs and grit your teeth through the next 24 hours, or you can drug yourself up to the eyeballs and go back to bed.

I wussed out and chose option number two. My supervisor tells me that work require a medical certificate for this, since so many people try to wriggle out of the conference. Booo. I sincerely hope the dr gives me one, as I always feel like an idiot when I'm floored by my periods. Like I'm letting the team down, you know?

Del put it perfectly just now (chatting online), when she said "Yes, it's something you don't like talking about, and should be femcho enough to work thru".

Yah. That'll hit the nail directly on its painful little head right about now. Perfect, thanks for the absolutely spot-on summary Del. So me and my heat bag are off to the doctor. Bummer about not getting to wear my swishy skirt though. Meh. It's a day for sleeping, knitting, and trying not to feel bad about taking the day off for girly reasons.

Purple!

...when I drove home today from work all the mountains around the place were purple.

Purple!!!!

Beauuuuutiful. No photo. Ya just gonna have to trust me on this one.

I'm settling into the new job. As in, the shell shock has *just* worn off, and each morning doesn't fill me with abject terror. I'm starting to sign up new clients, so I won't just be inexpertly bumbling with another person's caseload, and although the offer of a psych supervisor has fallen through, I'm still seeing him every few weeks for professional non-official non-internship supervision. Cool.

And... I'm TIRED. Working 5 days a week (4 of them on the road) is exhausting. But despite that I'm slowly waddling through the knitting, as this is generally what I cling to for the 1/2 hour of lunch time. Yay!

Tarts and work and lurgy and shtuff

What can I say. The picture pretty much sums it up. Thanks to my latest obsession, icanhascheezburger, for the ridiculously silly and cute pic. :D

Hrm, yes. A pretty plain life at the moment. I'm settling in to work, which has some great moments and some horrid moments - fairly standard for most jobs I suppose. It's rewarding, but hell demanding, and I'm coming home pretty ratshit most days. As a result of huge change and adjustment (and exposure to sniffly coughing teenagers), I got sick. Third week into work and I've already taken a sick day. How embarrassing. And when I turned up to my volunteer work this morning, they told me to bugger off, go home, and don't even think about infecting them with my evil lurgy. Heh.

But! I am getting a tiny bit of time to knit. And I mean tiny... but I'm happy with that! Despite the fact that I took yesterday off, I spent most of it curled up on the lounge, unconscious or semi-conscious and having really freekin weird dreams. Booo for disrupted REM patterns. So I did a couple of rows, and realised that once again I'm having serious colour issues with the green jumper. Double booo!

The beeg excitement for this week was Cynthy coming to stay (I hope I didn't infect you too! Ick!) and going out for a hugeMUNGous dinner and hanging out chit-chatting and watching dvds. Yay for midweek visitors and courses in Canberra :D

A friend came over and hung out and dyed wool with me! It was awesome... I love having people over. :D It's one of those strange things about me: I'd rather host a dinner or a morning tea or a get-together at my home than go out most of the time. I do love going out, but something I love even more is having friends over, cooking, eating, drinking, enjoying love and life in this gorgeous little space that I call my home. I don't care if it's a bit messy, I stopped getting worried about "the mess" in my house a long time ago when I realised that no matter how clean or tidy it is, I'm always going to fret that it doesn't come up to scratch, so the only solution is to give it a quick once-over and forget about it. And enjoy my visitors! Any of my friends in Canberra who ever want to just come over randomly and/or spontaneously and hang out... call me!

I'm working on this new colourway... the first pic shows attempt number one, but it's way to golden and caramelish for my liking. I've re-hashed it with far less of the caramely colour and replaced it with deeper, richer browns, and it's called Chocolate Slut in honour of a dessert I used to have in Erskinville's Rose Pub when I was still a Sydney chick. Unfortunately, when I list it on ebay I have to call it something more respectable, so I call it Chocolate Tart. Close, but just not the same indulgent, rich implications that come with the word slut. Rowr. What a great yarn name... brings to my mind images of an unapologetically sensual woman, smirking knowingly as she wipes a tiny bit of chocolate sauce from the corner of her mouth. Heheh! Maybe Tarty Chocolate would do it justice without stepping over ebay's "polite" line. Hmmm....