So, people are busy. I will be busy soon enough, but today I’ve spent the day knitting, after staying up until 1:30 am last night teaching myself how to do a stockinette stitch and use more than one color, and also add stitches and follow a pattern. It is not that hard really. Except about halfway through today’s knitting session I realized that I am definitely going to have major arthritis when I’m older. Probably from cracking my knuckes (says Pen as she cracks her knuckles). Whatever. Oh well. I had a good run. I finished half the thing I am making, which I am keeping a secret for now because it might become someone’s [word omitted due to the fact that it’s not after Thanksgiving yet] present. Mwaha. Well, as much as I hate it when people get all into [word omitted for the same reason as before] in November, if you make handmade gifts you kind of need to think ahead a little bit…
I like November. I just thought I should say that. In the past i’ve sort of overlooked it… November should be the 12th month, and December should be the 5th… don’t ask. My weird brain. Oh the pain. How it rains. Etcetera.
Alas indeed, though! Mom and Dad and Poncho are…sniff…GONE! All weekend!! I would put in a little crying emoticon, but I reserve those for emails between Mom and myself because I think they look cheesy on a blog. But Poncho is happy because he’s turning 10 tomorrow, and that is why he is now off on a trip because that is what you get when you turn 10 in my family: a trip to somewhere cool that is not too far away. But when you turn 11 you get a handful of dryer lint. In your cake. Just kidding.
Um. So. Well. Despite how proud I am of my knitting, I have to say that it’s been one of those weird days that just pass in a flash and then you feel really unproductive, like you slept until 2 in the afternoon or something. I should write something, work on my novel, bleh bleh bleh (as Bug would say). Some people do Nanowrimo. I tried that once. I learned that I’m not really a word-count person. It’s distracting. I prefer to commit to a certain amount of time, like my daily 3 hours, or a little ten minutes here or there while waiting for something. I just sit down and write as much as I can, knowing in the back of my head that the clock is ticking and this chunk or snippet of time is MINE for now and now only, so I had better do something with it. And that, for me, is more motivating than word counts. After all, some days I do spend much of my 3 hours spinning in the chair, gazing blankly into space, threatening various technological devices, that sort of thing. But often even that ends up being productive. I sit down thinking, “I’m so stuck. I will never get past this part.” That train of thought invariably progresses into “DOOM! DOOM! DOOM UPON ME!” which, after becoming a shriek in my brain, suddenly explodes into an idea that finally gets me writing. And, when things get frustrating, I just tell myself to stick it out for the last half hour, hour, whatever, and then I get to be done. My brain can go think about something else until tomorrow.
Ah, there is the phone. I must be going now.