Because let's face it, this one isn't getting any younger, and anything that can tease my brain back into my head, must be a good thing--right?
Considering the last couple of days, I would think that losing my mind would be a great thing. "Not so," Confucius say. Feeling like you're losing your mind creates even more stress, worry and concern on top of what you might already feel. It's an addition that someone who wishes she could sleep at night without a sleeping pill doesn't really need. And even though I slept pretty good last night without one, I waited to go to bed until after 11pm--which I almost NEVER do, dreamed stupid dreams all night, woke up dreaming of large batches of mice that I thought were bunnies, and wondering WHY I was dreaming about so many mice--
Freud might say that I am dreaming about multitudes of mice because of my desire to have relations with my father. Say what? Get out of here.
After that, it was set to task to find them a new home, and lacking a safe one, I just let them go--and they all ran into the house. I suppose if I hadn't woke up at that time, a tornado would have come and taken the house to OZ--where the mice would have to go through hoops and whirlygigs to obtain their desires from the Wizard. Okay, wait a minute. Did I just fall asleep again?
So when I woke up, imagine my dismay, when I realize that the fret that I went to sleep with (what project next), I still have this morning...the mouse thing is the number of projects I already have to do--the all colors and sizes, the yarn--the checking for age appropriate, is the selection process--the getting them to safety is completing the project. So I'm right back to where I started.
Whoever said "Life is hard, but it's better than the alternative", obviously didn't take into consideration the fact that losing one's mind tosses a monkey wrench into the whole works. I think that my monkey wrench might be knitting and crochet. At least right now.
I have a knitting class today at JoAnn's. I have Monica trussed up in a bag to keep her fur from gathering cat hair. She's going in with me. I'm going to scrounge about and find the parts to my Arizona rug to take with me to JoAnn's to work on, teach my class, run home, grab my husband and drive to his daughter's house because TODAY is my grandson's birthday, and she has invited us to come over for ice cream and cake. Woohoo! Ice cream and cake! Then we will come home and perhaps enjoy an evening--then again, perhaps he will get annoyed with himself over his issues with his computer and throw the television remote at me again. Who knows what might happen by then--it almost sounds like a whole 'nuther day--because it's Saturday, and
So everyone have a great day, and don't get too busy. When you get to my age the days rush right by. It's sad because tomorrow you might not be able to remember them. That's all.