First Day of Work

Sweet Elvis, I need to take up sewing again. There is not enough time in the day to do everything I want to do. Curse my hyper-creative kinesthetic ways!

DO WANT

I. Need. This shirt. XXL. For indeed, the message is apt.

Re-Entering the Workforce 101

So starting Tuesday, I shall be gainfully employed. This is going to sound dorky to most of you and OMFG amazing to a few, but I'm going to be working in a sewing machine store. An AWESOME sewing machine store. I spent more than an hour playing with one on Friday, and IT SEWS SIDEWAYS. IT SEWS ON A DIAGONAL. I WANT ONE!

No, this will not eat into writing or knitting time. However, I may have to take up sewing again at some point. I haven't really done it since we moved into an apartment too small and cluttered to really spread out any fabric. Now that we're in a house, though....

On the plus side, the toys at work are too expensive to randomly bring one home. Mmm, toys. Waaaaant....

Anyone got a thousand dollars spare I can have?

Potential Booty?

Arr, it be International Talk Like A Pirate Day, mateys. That mean I be havin' a job interview as bonny as a bottle o' rum fresh from Barbados. What be a pirate to do?

Arr. A conundrum this be.

One more thing.

All of you USian types are registered to vote, aren't you? We're getting awfully close to the deadline before November 4.

A heart attack I did NOT need

I just saw what appeared to be a ms page on my printer. A few days ago, I finally submitted a story that I've been struggling with for over two years. It's been written in whole twice, edited, revamped, and finally got down to a (hopefully) finished product of 14,700 words. The whole thing is 65 pages long.

You have not experienced heart-stopping horror until you think you left out the last page.

Fortunately, it turned out to be this year's holiday fruitcake recipe printed on the back of one of my old unused printouts--of a completely different story. It's all too strong of an illustration of what this week has been like. At least this bit turned out for the best.

Now I'm going to go play with my Wii and hope I get a new couch (and some other, slightly more mysterious and potentially horrible things) today.

I'm calling you "Stinky"

Crowley, aka Gorbacat (no, seriously, he looks like Gorbachev), has a few disconcerting habits and a particular affinity for stench. His breath stinks, his butt used to reek like a dead alligator in a cesspool, and he likes to share his stink. When he has a bath, not only do the soggy slurping sounds echo through the room, but the stench follows. How he isn't a walking blob of stink is beyond me.

Anyhow, he's discovered a new source of stink: Daddy's shoes. The Import will get home from work and take his shoes off. Half a second later, Crowley's hunched over them and has his face in one to the neck. I'm not stupid enough to actually want to smell Daddy's feet (especially since he can never find where I put the socks), but if Crowley likes it, they've got to be pretty ripe. I pity the beauty tech who someday gives him a pedicure.

Is it just my cats, or are everyone else's cats crazy? (I can't even go to the bathroom without Baby deciding she's got a captive audience and all the pettins she can take.)

The Joy of Sleep

So last night I dreamt (horribly) that Barack Obama only got 3,000 votes nationwide in the general election. No idea where it came from, but now I'm afraid to go to bed. ("Can't sleep. Neo-cons will eat me. Can't sleep. Neo-cons will eat me.") I'm going to try and wear myself out on the Wii Fit, then take some pain killers.

Smoke me a kipper. I'll be back for sleep through breakfast.

Um, wow.

Realms of Fantasy just bought my short story, "Nell and the Devil."

Holy crap. I totally expected Shawna to pass on it, but, eek. This story is significant for a couple of reasons:

1. It's the first fairy tale I've ever sold, and one of the purest pieces of fantasy I've ever written.
2. It's my third professional short story sale, which means I'm very close to (finally) qualifying for Active SFWA membership, and equally close to the end of my Writers of the Future eligibility period.

I'm a little stunned right now. Also, I'm thoughtful, and this sale kind of makes me want to just pull in the old belt and see if we can just live on the Import's salary for a while. I had a horrific job interview today (for reasons I won't go into), so this kinda makes me think I should just try to go the writing-and Etsy route for a while. I'm crafty. I make cool stuff. Hmm.

Needless to say, I have much to think about now, and a .doc file to send off!

No more knitting, no more writing....

We installed our Wii Fit tonight. (Its purchase pre-dates the tally on the car trouble, btw.) I've done 40 minutes of exercise this evening, and I'm trying to decide if I want more. Nine minutes of that was jogging in place. It doesn't sound like much, but that's pretty good for an out-of-shape arthritic. :)

ETA, 20 minutes later: OMFG MY LEGS! AAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!!! *goes to find the Epsom salts*

*twitch*

Gettin' itchy to finish the book. For the first time in about five or six years, I'm fairly relaxed and have enough room to breathe. (House is still a mess, but c'est la vie.) It feels weird to have time to keep myself sane and (relatively) healthy. I need bone-crushing work!

Tonight is my monthly knitting and drinking night. Woo! I shall have a Harvey Wallbanger, and at IHOP, I'm getting pancakes. Strawberry, of course.

Everybody Loves Hypno-Toad!

Apparently, Kaitlyn Maher on America's Got Talent is the Hypno-Toad.

I, fortunately, am immune to child cute. (But if she were a kitty, it'd all be over.)

Public Service Announcement

Getting gauge on double knitting is a royal pain in the....

Also? Taking the car to the shop at 7:30 in the morning after approximately three hours' sleep is almost hallucinatory. WHEE!

I'm goin' back to bed.

ETA: Sleep ain't happening. Sigh. No word on the car, yet, either, which means it's REALLY screwed. The only real plus side to the day is that I've started knitting my blanket, and the yarn I'm using is amazing. My allergies say it's wool, but my fingers say it's a cotton blend. Mmm, cotton.

ETA2: Part of the A/C compressor is shot. However, we'll have to replace the whole thing because the part in question isn't sold separately, and the whole process will cost the better part of a grand. Oh, yay. Time to invoke the mystical power of the in-laws.

Did I mention that part of the electrical system on my car is shot? Blood pressure... rising....

*falls over*

Finished's knitting Mom's present. Now I just have to block it, then fold it up with some cedar balls until December. The biggest potential problem is that I have to borrow Mom and Dad's floor to wet block the thing, else it'll turn into a cat bed-slash-scratching post. (Baby adores wool.) I might just be able to order her to stay out of her guest bedroom for a day or so.

Next step: a checkerboard, double-knitted, lap-sized blanket. I am NOT making anything larger than that. For one, I don't have the yarn. Mostly, though, OMFG, just NO!

Seriously, I just need to take a break from gift stuff and make something for myself. It'll probably be a hat and scarf, but that's fine. I found some gorgeous German needlepoint designs from 1597 a couple of days ago, and most of them are just begging to be turned into knitwear. I wonder if I could design a princess-seamed or empire-waisted sweater with a colour-stranded stomacher? Hmm. *note to self: cut back on What Not To Wear*