Thursday, January 12, 2006

Not much going on

Par is suggesting I might have trigger fingers in my left hand, the ones that won't flex smoothly first thing in the morning when I try to open my hand. Not painful, but uncomfortable. So I've been cutting back on the amount of knitting.

Which doesn't help the drive that wants to finish things before picking up a new project. There are stripped mittens to match my new hat that I want to do, but the Blather Nalgar is in the way along with the Fischu. The Fischu will be beautiful when it's done, but it's at the long-row stage now. The Blather Nalgar, well, I spent a lot of time with it on the trip to Philly and I was ready to not see quite so much of it for awhile. But I'll need to pick it up again.

I'm minding the shop for Lucy this Saturday, so I'll probably bring it with me then. She says last weekend was busy so we can hope that continues.

In the meantime, I'm doing a slow sort of my socks. Some of them have clear bra wounds (long strands pulled out from bra hooks getting caught in the wash), others have holes in the toes that show up when you put them on. I think I'm going to see what I actually put on my feet over the next week or so, and then make the remainders candidates to head to the fellow with the sock creatures. I'm surprized at how fond I'm feeling towards certain sock pairs, for no apparent reason.

And then there was the diabetic nightmare last night. When I dream, I may not necessarily have diabetic issues show up (though the pump's alarm has become an element sometimes), but this time the entire plot line of the dream was about being trapped in a social situation, with someone else's social connection, not my associates, and the dream people just didn't get how their lack of organization and not doing what they said they were going to was causing me real harm. There was a meal that would not be served, and the let's do something else we hadn't discussed before elements.

It's depressing (as in, initiate a depressive episode, not just sad-making) when it happens in real life, and frightening, too. I don't like having to acknowledge just how fragile my well-being is.

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