PlazaJen: Passion Knit

I have a summer cold. It's AWESOME. I mean, if you enjoy having a stuffy head, runny nose, and the feeling in general of your head being packed tightly with cotton balls. Heh. I said balls. (Apparently the juvenile humor is more accessible under the influence of cold meds.)

Work craziness continues to swirl - people are leaving and it's always hard when the people you like & enjoy working with move on. It also leaves a certain level of "unknowns" - how will it be handled in the interim, who will be hired, will they be a devil child, you know, loads of things way, way beyond my control. Then there's the situation with my childhood home/farm - an offer has been made (keep in mind none of it was left to me, so powerless again, I watch from a distance & try to keep the pain in check), so I am keeping some of the craziness at bay by just focusing on what I :can: control, and doing laundry. I am in such fucking control of my laundry, I'm surprised it hasn't started folding itself out of fear. That which I can grip? Iron fist, baby.

Speaking of folding, I spent a good hour yesterday folding all the clean clothes from, uh, a month ago, so I could free up the laundry baskets and sort the dirty clothes, which had artfully arranged themselves into rug-like piles. While I was doing this, I put the tv on to my favorite channel, Court TV, because Sleuth TV was having a Miami Vice marathon, and I have had to begrudgingly admit that while I loved it as a teenager, it really kinda sucks. So Court TV was featuring back-to-back episodes of "Inside" and I caught most of SuperMax, all about a maximum security prison in Utah, and some of the most frightening, godawful tattoos a gal ever could imagine. One dude (a white supremacist) was covered, and I mean COVERED. Face, head, neck, all of it. At what point do you tip? When you finally say, Ahhhh, fuck it, just put those swastikas all over my face. I'm never gonna get a job and I wanna feel pretty. My favorite moment was the piece on the two women, who used to be roommates until the one chick tried to kill her. Now? They're good friends. As the victim said, "I forgive her. I understand why she had to do what she did." And the killer's take? "She brought it on herself. She had it comin'." Wild. I would really not do well in SuperMax.

Well, it's Monday Monday, and I've got lots to do! All through the clogged up fog. My mouth breathing is exceptionally attractive, too. In knitting news, I've gotten Clue #2 finished on MS3. I think Clue #3 will be fine, but all those rows in #4 are daunting!

Labels: life