Hey, blogging buddies and knit sibs. Have you missed me? I’ve missed you! This no internet at home thang is getting me down. I wonder how much it would cost to get it laid in? Hmmm…. I’ve spent most of the day with bloglines open here at work, but although it’s no biggy to read it when I have no work, I’m jumpy and nervous and I feel bad. I feel like I’m wasting my time, when what I want is to get a coffee and jump feet first into blogland, bookmarking and cutting/pasting to my heart’s content.
That said, some of the things I have seen have brought my inspiration to craft surging to the forefront. It isn’t that I want to steal people’s ideas. Although, of course, I do. It’s that seeing what other people have done makes me think I can do it too, even if I can’t. It makes me remember the thrill of the FO, the calm of creation, the buzz of project planning. I’m dying to get a sewing machine, too, and see how long it takes before I sew my finger to something.
Sunday night I was feeling flustered and discontent, a result of having spent almost the entire day on the computer. I picked up my kittyville hat, began to knit, and calm descended. Not magically, not immediately, but with every stitch, each round, the swirls of thought inside my head that found it impossible to settle began, miraculously, to do so…
I found my cardigan for Arwen in a bag. I think I’ll have to unravel it a bit, the short rows seemed to come out the wrong number. But I think I might get cracking on it again. And I’m thinking of ordering some more wool to knit my Jo Sharpe cardigan again – with custom shaping on the waist, and without being afraid to make it longer. I’ll still have to work out what to do about the shoulder shaping – it’s a bit scarier – but maybe I can ask my grandma about that.
I really really want to stop into spotlight on my way home – I need a different size of DPNs to finish the kittyville hat, and I want some nice sloppy satin ribbon to tie back the girly gauze curtain in my room so I can let some sunlight in. But I am poor… very poor. I just handed over some $155 to my boss so that she could by a womadelaide ticket for me – my workplace is placing a group order, which means we get a discount, but it’s not a good week for me to be doing that. I got payed for my first two days of work and now I have to wait another fortnight for my next (huge!) pay. Let me clarify. It’s not actually huge, but for me, used to living on a student’s part-time payment, it’s huge. Also, I have a fairly minimal expense outlay. Comparatively, anyway. So, although I am determined to save at least a little each week, and despite the multitude of events I want to go to in the coming months (damn you, festival city! Damn you and your ridiculously appropriated moniker!) I should have enough left over to suitably indulge myself in craftiness. Also, I no longer have to sneak packages past my mother, lest she chastise me for my extravagance.
There’s a DK’s near my work, too. That’s a fabric warehouse thingy… it’s one of the few places left around here that has a decent range, and the last time I went their prices were excellent. Of course, that was when my mother was making my formal dress, in Year 11. That would be…. Uh… 6 or seven years ago. Still. They’re open till 5:30, so I could just make it after work, or else I could always go one my break. Except I enjoy the lunch room – there’s usually something hilarious going on in there of an afternoon.
I’m exhausted, though. It’s been hard adjusting to full-time work, it’s hard getting around without a car, its hard finding energy to do things after work. It’s hard buying groceries, again, sans car. It’s hard finding enough business-like things in my wardrobe to not repeat myself too often. It’s hard being white and middle class, people. It’s just hard.
But in all seriousness, I am enjoying my new job, my new home, the possibilities that are inherent in both these things. Today I am tired, but soon it will be time to go home. And then, I can sleep. Or, I could craft. Whichever seems likely to revive me the best. I can’t wait