The Real World

Today, January 3, I re-entered the land of the living, the world of those working 8 to 5, the realm of memorandums and meetings.

It actually wasn't too bad. It's all about attitude, Jennifer said, and I think she's exactly right. I just decided that I was going to go to the darkside with a smile on my face, a snack in my bag and a CD in my purse: all the gear necessary to make the day bearable. It's not that I don't like my job, I actually love it. I just would rather spend my days free of all that constrains me, free of socks, free of getting up early, free of contacts, free to do what I wanted with my day as I wished. It's the American dream, right?

That being said, I came home tonight feeling as if I had accomplished much, cleared a few things off my list and could walk proud in light of a productive day. I decided to make my evening even more productive and sat down to seam my poncho. After fighting with a needle, yarn and two cats for over an hour, I gave it up and opted instead for something even more frustrating: knitting on double point needles.

Needlefingers would be so proud! After ripping out my work not once, not twice, but three times and after realizing that there was no really good guide to learning this, I dug in and taught myself. Soon I will be sporting Voodoo fingerless gloves and all the popular kids will be jealous. I will keep you posted.

Gosh, I wish there was something more to post, but I am not sure you want to know that I prepared dinner for myself (this happens about once ever six months. . . don't get too excited, it was soup out of a can, but none-the-less I still warmed it expertly) and that I talked to my bestest friend for over an hour. Miracles do happen.