Thursday--

And, if I'm not mistaken, a three day weekend, where I can get tons of work around the house done.

Or, not?

Whatever I do, I suppose it will be something that will energize me for work next week.

Or. not.

Did you like the bag I posted yesterday? It's quite cute, yes? I went right out and bought the yarn for two of them. I'm thinking seriously about starting one today.

Or. not.

What is this? Startitis meltdown?

I say that because I also have the yarn for a pair of slippers, several prayer shawls, an afghan, three or four shawls, I can't begin to tell you how many socks and dishcloths, and patterns for all these--

And Rhiannon languishes in my fear that she will not work out for me. I'm a bit worried about her. A fair isle sweater sits in a bag downstairs, I am sure, CRYING to be let out to play. It took three Tylenol and a Valium to shut out her pleas one day--

Not for her--for ME!

I always get like this after a long-ish project is finished. I have so many projects that I can't decide what to do or what to work on next!

Yarn Harlot decided to put all her yarn and patterns into kits and put herself into a "self-imposed sock club". I don't think this means she actually joined a sock club. I think she had so much yarn and so many sock patterns, that she just bagged up some yarn and a pattern, and it was sort of like a "grab and git". Me? I'd probably join the sock club, if I didn't spend the money on yarn of some sort.

It's not like I'm unfaithful with my projects, but when they get to a point where I fear they aren't going to work to flawless perfection. So trust me, when it comes to my knitting, nothing short of perfection is desired, but most of the time, I have to deal with little imperfections at one point or another, and it bugs the heck out of me--I mean, I *have* been knitting for many, many, many years, after all! (Okay, let's knock off the Many, Many bit!)

So I suppose that I will begin with a blue bag. I'm going to trade this for some green lace-weight that I have been coveting for some time that's in my friend's stash. As if I need more yarn. But this stuff is earmarked for a special project, and I simply must have it. She tells me that the dog got hold of it (I can fix tears and I can wash slobber, NO PROBLEM!). I suppose that it's a fair trade, seeing as how she covets the bag, and actually likes my knitting. Go figure. (No really, Mary, you know I'm not a horrible knitter, but felting sort of takes all those small imperfections and hides them so well that even the hairdresser doesn't know.)

I was dreaming about playing piano again last night--this time with someone who was pretty accomplished at piano--but all I could do was plink out a few notes and goof around.

Then I realized that my alarm was ringing.

Funny how reality intrudes on my sleeping world.