If I’m honest, sweet nothing. But that’s not very nice. Or strictly true: just nothing much of note.
I’m going through another existential writing crisis. It’s gets boring after a while, really. These have been going on at least since high school (freshman year, even) so I’ve got close to 15 years of experience under my belt already. Which is a very depressing thought.
So I’ve accumulated notes, flagged texts, underlined passages, cryptic half-sentences, and lots of angst. Deadlines (already long past, indeed part of the problem is the extreme inexcuseable lateness of all this and the attendant self-flaggelation) are looming again, simply because I’m moving on to NewU in August. It’s last chance dance time around here.
But what about the knitting?
Well, that has also been problematic.
Yep, another hybrid shawl. This project has been through many stages, indeed it’s been a veritable Kübler-Ross model in mohair. I won’t take you though the sad, sad saga. It involved much frogging, repeated tinking, a good amount of boredom, and not as much alcohol as might be assumed (or desired, looking at it from another persepective).
Now, of an evening, I select a Doctor Who episode, sigh, and get started. My life has been greatly enriched by the presence of Tom Baker.