Done.

Well, that was good.

Now I have to wait for the next one.

I don't think she's finished writing it.

Crap.

Limitations: knowing them, and then abiding by them

I am a bookaholic.

I know this.

If a book is out that I want to read, I want to read it now.

If it is in the house, I want to start it now.

Once I start it, I find it Really, Really hard to put it down before I'm at the end.

I've learned this, the hard way, and so sometimes I'm able to head myself off at the pass (temptation, get thee behind me), as I did last night.

The story actually starts on Sunday, when I picked up Twilight to reread it so that I could then read New Moon.

Now, just as there are read-once-ers and rereaders (or, as a friend put it at the party last weekend when he looked at all my books, "Now, why do you keep them all?"), there are those who savor and those who gobble.

I gobble. I have been known to finish a book and not know the mechanics of how the good guys saved the victims from the bad guys, I was reading so fast. I usually reread less quickly, but sometimes the second reading grabs me just as much as the first, and that's what happened here. My, I'd forgotten just how ... mmm, Edward is. It doesn't surprise me that the author was greeted at a stop on her book tour by dozens of people chanting, "Edward, Edward!" (I also understand her feeling somewhat taken aback by that. As she pointed out, she didn't actually have Edward with her.)

I mean, yes, okay, Edward is a vampire. But he's gorgeous, charismatic, has a sense of humor, and is wildly in love with Bella. He saves her life, literally (and then tries to convince her that sure, he was standing right next to her before the truck almost ran her over). Of course, he could kill her very easily, but he has self-control. He may be able to pass for a high school student, but he died in 1918, he's had years to learn to control his strength.

Maybe you need to read the book to understand. Anyway, I raced through it, and was fully ready Monday night to read New Moon, but I didn't have it. Hmmm. That's a snag. Of course, that meant I did get sleep Monday night!

So, since I am counting my pennies right now, having just paid the quarterly condo tax bill (ouch), yesterday I checked the library website and found it was in at one of the branches and I could pick it up last night, oh joy! I did so, and got in the car kind of hugging it, then paused. And got out of the car and put it in the trunk.

This enabled me to get the things I needed to get done last night, done, one of them being get more sleep, because if I brought in it the house, I'd open it, and if I started reading it, All Would Be Lost (kind of like the Bruins lately). By leaving it in the car, I was able to pretend I didn't have it.

Tonight, though? Dude, I've spent too much time here already. (Man, that book is cold!)

How did you get here

When I started blogging, my mother asked me how people would know about my blog. I told her that generally, there were two ways:

1. I tell someone it's there, and where to find it. Friends or family, people I know, and that's most of you. Hi!

2. I comment on someone else's blog, perhaps mentioning my blog, and put a link to it. Generally Crazy Aunt Purl or the Yarn Harlot, sometimes others. Then, anyone can click on the link, come over and look at my blog. I've done this to other bloggers, checked out their blogs from their comments when I've had some time to kill, and found a few I really like this way, so I know it's possible.

I have now learned that there is a number three, and it is interesting, to me anyway (now, there's a name for a blog: Interesting, To Me Anyway. That would be truth in advertising right there).

Web-searches. Actually, I did know about this, since that's how I found Laurie's blog in the first place: I was looking for a simple knit hat pattern. And thank heavens I was! I found that and so much more. But I digress.

I got a cheap thrill the first time I found I could Google-search "ccr in MA" and my little blog came up. I could see, though, that no one other than me (and possibly my mother) would ever search that, so it didn't seem like a generally big deal. As I learn more, though, about site stats, I have learned that my blog has been found by people searching for other things:

• sirius cybernetics corporation complaint
• gary larson stop now my brain is full
• too lazy to exercise
• yarn harlot godless heathen union
• legwarmer patterns
• "genuine people personality" + "Sirius Cybernetics Corporation"
• purring toy cat marblehead
• "blue moon fiber"
• "Ty Burr"
• sock knitting clubs
  
• boston bruins hockey quilts
  

It's an interesting mishmash, isn't it? Knitting people, Douglas Adams fans, all sorts of random searches going on. (I'd love to know what the "purring toy cat marblehead" searcher had in mind, actually. If you turned into a regular reader here, by any chance, would you let me know?) And mostly none of them are going to find what they're looking for here ... but I can hold out hope that someone might find something they didn't know they were looking for.

And it gives me something to think about, and write about, other than the Bruins. Because let's not go there.

Whew

The party was fun, but overwhelming, too. Introvert! Introvert! To me, twenty people is like having a marching band parading around my home.

Umm. But in a good way. Really.

It actually went really well, it's just that it took it out of me. Whatever "it" is, I had none left. I plan to entertain again, but I think smaller groups is a good idea. I felt very split-personality, trying to deal with people coming-people going-showing people around-getting people drinks-is there enough food-how are the cats-is everything okay. But it all was okay, and everyone loved the condo, which was so nice to hear.

A couple of my friends brought flowers, which was lovely of them. And isn't it funny that the word flowers covers this:


and this:


The "vase" is mine, it was all I could find. I actually kind of like it. Rustic charm, right? Pickle jar. I love both the flower arrangements, just find it funny that they're the same thing, if you see what I mean.

Here is the calm before the storm, by the way. It's a good thing they'll never know the chaos was my idea.



Harold went under the bed as soon as the masses descended (about a dozen people arrived within 5 minutes of each other) and didn't come out until everyone was gone. Pan came out once or twice to assuage his mad curiosity, thereby allowing a few people to see that I really do have at least one cat, and once allowed himself to be called out from under the bed to sniff someone who wanted to meet him, but otherwise stayed Safe.

And here's the spread, before anyone arrived:

I didn't take any pictures During. It was a whirlwind. But a fun one!

Finally, if you are a knitter/crafty person (or if not, maybe you know one?), and have a little $ to shop right now, there's a good cause for it to go toward. Get thee to Laurie's post today to read about it (I refuse to rewrite a well-written post, for heaven's sake). Get yarn, do good.

I'm a-walkin' (I'm in pain)

Part of what worked for me in the "being healthier and losing weight" way was walking. When I first started this, a year and a half ago, my last job had just finished, and I had plenty of time for long walks. When I started working here at the Marketing Department of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, I was pleased to learn that several people in my department routinely spent morning and afternoon breaks walking. Skeptics to the contrary notwithstanding, I think that 15 to 20 minutes of exercise twice a day is better than nothing. And so it seemed to prove.

Recently, of course, I haven't been on the bandwagon. I was sick, then I was cold-weather lazy, I guess is the only excuse. This week, I've walked more than half the breaks, and suddenly wow, my back is gently achy all over, and my legs a bit too. Just that small amount of walking was keeping me in slightly better shape than without it, apparently. I'm going to try to get back into the swing of it and keep it up, both for my health and so that once I'm used to it again, I don't have to get used to it again.

(I have been sleeping well this week. On the flip side, though, I've been so tired!)

Having said this, no walking today. But why, you ask? Well, this was when I got into the car this morning:


See that temperature? Need a close-up?


Without wind chill, that is. When I left work, it was 8. I only went outside today when absolutely necessary: to get to work, to fuel the car (which I love how I put off until I was riding E on the coldest day of the year, now that's good planning), to mail bills, to get home. Period.

And yes, I can walk inside, and sometimes do. The thing is, today I dressed for the weather, in extra layers, which means that if I start seriously walking, I overheat in no time, and am all sweaty and feel icky. Not to be too girly, but no thanks. I knew I'd be getting enough exercise tonight, doing my night-before-the-party headless chicken impression. Now, to bed!

Enough

I have a bit of a Pollyanna streak myself, but I am now, as of 8:49 A.M. (okay, yesterday), officially tired of hearing that the weather "could be worse!"

I know it could be worse, people. I understand that it is January, I live in New England, we've hardly had any snow so far, we've hardly had to shovel, we've been so lucky, this is nothing, on and on.

I am ready for it to be better.

Although, there's this, one of my quotes of the day:

Don't knock the weather. If it didn't change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn't start a conversation.
- Kin Hubbard

Finally, in knitting, I frogged the scarf and have started it over. It's going well. Here is Before:

I don't know why Blogger has started rotating my photos at its whim, but right now I don't care. Have a kitty.


In fact, have two.


If that's not an end photo, what is?

movies, and particularly movie reviewers

You can only imagine how old it makes me feel to write this, not to mention how it must make my mother feel that her child is writing it, but I know that in today's society, I am rather old-fashioned for subscribing to and reading a daily newspaper, the paper kind, and using it as my main news source. I mean, people do, of course, I'm not the only one, but fewer and fewer people get their news that way. I love The Daily Show, heaven knows, but the idea that it is a primary news source for "today's young people" (I aged ten years writing that phrase) is deeply disturbing.

No matter. Planting myself firmly in the dark ages, I plan to discuss movie reviews, and reviews in the newspaper specifically, as though I was unaware that I could access reviews any other way. As though that was how I would learn about movies, The Way I would hear about movies before they were out. Because I have a quibble.

I'm going to start with what will sound like a non sequitur, but bear with me. Years ago, when I lived in Charlotte, Bruce Springsteen came to town. As part of their coverage (and, granted, only part), the Observer (not a bad paper, on the whole) sent a reporter who had never seen him in concert before, didn't know his music, and wrote about the experience like Jane Goodall watching the gorillas, only with less respect for the concert-goers ("Look at all these ... people. They're all wearing Springsteen shirts. They're playing his music in the parking lot before the show, all over the place. They're singing along to the songs, every word!"). Why? Why send her? What purpose did that serve?

Now, movie reviewing isn't exactly parallel to concerts, but there are similarities. From my perspective as the consumer, the purpose of the reviewer is to give me an idea of what the movie is about, what it's trying to do, and how well it does it, without giving too much away. I don't mind opinions, by all means, but the opinion really shouldn't boil down to a contemptuous, "well, it's all right if you like that sort of thing."

Actually, it's the contempt that I take issue with, not the 'if you like that sort of thing'. (I can't feel that having contempt for your audience will serve you well, no matter your field.) There are types of movies, as well as books, foods, etc, that I do like, so if you tell me that something is well done for that type of thing, excellent news for me. The implication that if I like that sort of thing, something is wrong with me ... hmmm.

With Miss Potter, my friends and I saw the preview and knew we'd like it, so I knew I'd be seeing it*. When that happens, I often don't read the review ahead of time, or maybe I'll only skim it, in case the reviewer spoils any surprises or otherwise gives anything away. When I saw this one, I knew his feelings as soon as I saw he used the word "twee" (ugh), so I stopped reading and only went back and read the whole review after seeing the movie this weekend. We liked it, by the way, all four of us, and given that no one in the theatre even stood up to leave until the credits were done--done--I don't think we were the only ones. He sure didn't like it, wow. Must suck to have a job where you have to see movies you know you won't like, and then write about them afterward.

I don't argue that Ty Burr is wrong for not liking Miss Potter, just because I liked it. It's a great world that makes movies different people can enjoy. For that matter, the same person can like different types of movies. Plural society, people. Nothing wrong with that. But as a writer, does he actually think that not one of his readers, not one, will like this movie? Because unless that's what he's thinking, he's insulting part of his audience from the opening line. "Suitable for children and for women who really know their potpourri," indeed.

I'm not saying I'll quit getting the Globe. I like the Globe, and usually respect it. But in this day and age, you can certainly understand why, given other options, people sometimes take them, can't you? Overall, I think the Globe's movie reviewers do a good job. But every once in a while, they betray themselves. Respect your audience, is what I'm saying.

I would like to conclude with a real non sequitur. I am announcing here that I am back on the stop-eating-everything eating management plan. It isn't a diet, just that I am trying to actually think about what I eat before I eat it. I had success with this before, roughly from August 04 to February 05, when I lost weight, and then I was in a sort of maintenance phase of the same thing, but the whole condo/packing/moving/unpacking/Christmas/being sick thing gave me the excuse to let go a bit, and I have gained back some of what I lost, and I am choosing not to accept that. I like food, but I can eat less of it and still have a damn good life, thank you. You heard it here first. If I don't fit into last summer's shorts next summer, it will be because they are too big. Thus say I.

*P.S. If, like me, you go to see Miss Potter, make sure you can reach a tissue. It has one of those moments. I won't say more. I really liked this movie! (Virtual raspberry Globe-ward...)

Party planning: cleaning, knitting, hockey, and plaster dust ... just an average day

So, I'm having a party, as some of you (local-people-who-know-me-outside-the-blog) know already. It's a show-off-the-condo party, more politely called an open house or housewarming (condowarming?). I was going to say I don't know how long it's been since I entertained like this, but then I actually thought about it (there's something, thinking before writing), and nope, I've never entertained like this. It's a first! And it may be a last, but I don't want to be negative.

Not too soon, anyway. Plenty of time for that.

The thing is, I've invited a lot of people. Most everyone I know who lives around here. Not that that's a lot of people, really, I am an introvert after all, but still, it's a lot of people for me. It's just that I love this place, and it seems to be made for entertaining in a way that my previous abodes were not. I want to have people over, not all the time, but not never, either. I may be over-ambitious with this party, probably am, but time will tell. I'm only normal-nervous so far.

Today, though, P-7, was supposed to be a day to get the place cleaner, not so furry, and at coming on 9PM it's less clean than it was this morning. Not according to plan. What happened was, I found out this week that the building was going to get hard-wired smoke detectors and, in the kitchen, a heat detector (neat, huh? apparently it doesn't go off every time one burns toast), and they were put in today. (This is follow-up to the fire in the building before I moved in, before I closed on my condo, last fall.) I did have smoke detectors, of course, but battery-op, not hard-wired.

Which means that some holes were cut in the ceiling, and although the workers did a decent job of clearing up after themselves, the dust does drift around, and of course their presence also impeded my cleaning progress even if they hadn't been contributing to the anti-clean movement. I got laundry done, but that's it.

Of course, that is an accomplishment. Having been away last weekend, I was very behind. But still. What's less impressive to guests, some clothes in the hamper or dust bunnies verging on dust rhinos?

I mean, I tell myself that my friends are not going to drop my acquaintance for a little dust. But I still want them to see the place at its best, particularly since most of them haven't seen any of my previous abodes: I told you, I didn't entertain! Hardly ever at all. This is a really big leaf I'm turning over. At least I'm doing it in style. If a thing is worth doing...

I foresee a week of increasingly harassedness, a party-day that I may well totally blank on afterward, and the following day spent in bed. Melodramatic, to be sure, but hey, I'm a Bruins fan, don't talk to me about moodiness! We're winning! We're losing! We're winning! We're losing! Slit your wrists! Hire a band! You need a bit of Sybil in you to follow this team, or at least a strong masochistic streak.

As for the knitting, there's a little frogging in my future. When I finished the knitted wristwarmers that have brought so many here from the Harlot's site (comment early on Stephanie's post, mention a photo on your blog, and watch your blog stats ... wow, I tell you, it's an education), I had enough yarn left to contemplate doing 'something' else. Another pair of wristwarmers? Yes, but then again no, quick frog the start. Maybe a hat ... didn't even start. I thought that a small scarf, almost more a neck wrap, would go well with the idea of the wrist warmers: a neck warmer. I tell you, the breezes literally blow in my cube at work sometimes, and if I'm not wearing a turtleneck, the back of my neck gets chilly. I started a simple k1p1, 42 stitches (of course), and about 6 inches into it I though maybe I wanted it wider, so I switched to all knit, which of course widens it out from the rib. Then after a good stretch of plain knit I went back to the k1p1, but as I approach the end of the yarn, I faced a dilemma.

It is going to be Just Barely long enough to go around my neck. It is also wider than it needs to be, even the ribbed part, and of course the knit part is wider still, and it isn't what I want. I think I shall have to frog it and do again at maybe 30 or 32 stitches, which should be wide enough, and then it will be longer, and I'll do it k1p1 all the way, and I think I'll like that better. I would insert the photo here, but apparently my camera is just Not in the Mood, and I'm starting to share the feeling. We'll try again tomorrow. I have captured the scarf on camera, it is the camera-to-computer step that is apparently too much to ask. Have you noticed how technology can tell when you're tired or frazzled or whatever, and knows when to act up? I will now back away from the computer.

And we're back!

That's the royal 'we', meaning I'm back, and isn't it nice to be home, yes-indeedy. I had a really good trip, but I'm happy to be back in place and facing no new trips for a while.

Still, it was fun. I was visiting a friend from North Carolina days, with her pleasant husband and their lovely daughters: charming, intelligent, and beautiful, I wish I could post their pictures, but even if they were mine (the girls, I mean; the photos are mine), I would hesitate. You can innocently put a photo Out There and Anyone can do Anything with it. There was a deeply disturbing CSI on the subject, where it turned out that the woman was mentally ill, and although she claimed that these people had kidnapped her son, and her house was full of photos of him at different ages, and toys, and had Cheerios on the floor and everything, the boy really was theirs, not hers, and she had taken the photos off their family reunion website. Creepy. So, I'll post kitty photos, since I don't see how that can come back to bite me in the butt (can it?), and of my knitting and so on, but not this.

Just imagine a lovely 8-year-old and a lovely 5-year-old, and make them just what you imagine as lovely, and it can be a fun exercise for you. See how generous I am? And how I'm trying to sound less rampantly paranoid than I am? And how I'm trying to divert your attention from the fact that my life-lesson-example comes from CSI?

It was a nice weekend (I'm not paranoid: oh, look, a chicken!). The traveling part wasn't more annoying than it could have been, though sometimes it did those weird travel things I don't understand, like when a flight leaves late and arrives early. (How does that happen? I mean, I understand "gaining" a couple of minutes in the air, but half an hour?) And the delusions of the airlines, claiming a flight will be leaving on schedule when it is 7 minutes to departure time and the previous, arriving flight is still deplaning. I think we'll be leaving late, myself! (And I was right.) Still, could have been worse. The weather was mild, even pleasant, especially compared to today and ohjeez tomorrow. The girls and I wandered through woods and streams out back of the property (boy, did they get wet). We watched a bunch of movies (have you seen Howl's Moving Castle? It was wonderful!). And we talked and talked.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled reality.

Parse this: sock knitting club

Where does the insuperable problem lie?

Imagine that you are a bank in Oregon. One of your clients, Blue Moon Fiber Arts, is a company that sells yarn. They sell quite a lot of yarn, and other knitting-related things. You process a lot of credit card payments for them.

Good so far, right? Stay with me.

You notice a surge in payments, and ask them to explain, to make sure nothing hinky is going on. They tell you that they are taking subscriptions for their annual sock knitting club, which is why there are suddenly more payments coming in.

Do you (remember, you're the bank):

A) Say, 'Well, yes, it is the end/beginning of the year, an annual club would account for that, thank you for explaining,' and go on to the next account;

B) Say, 'Really, that many people are signing up for a sock knitting club, are they? I'll just call a few to verify that the charges are legitimate';

C) Say, 'That can't possibly be right, there can't possibly be that many people spending that much money on a sock yarn club, it must be a scam and we will have no part of it, we will be refunding all monies and taking no further part (although the rest of your business is fine with us).'

Three guesses which happened.

You can read more at the Yarn Harlot's site, where the post has gotten more comments than what I imagine was the previous record, after she and Joe ended their godless heathen union (got married). She posted this story yesterday, and this morning the comments were on the way to 500. Commenters are discussing boycotts of the as-yet-unnamed bank, and sit-ins, and knit-ins, and sending them socks*, and sending the new bank socks because why grace the bad old bank with them, and lawsuits, and publicity, and it's a little crazy in there.

* Not, in my opinion, that this is the best way to convince them that knitters are a sane, responsible group, having hundreds of unsolicited hand-knit socks show up out of the blue at a bank, but hey, we're also a group with some things in common and many diverging ideas. I wouldn't presume to speak for all knitters, just because I knit.

[I do wish, though, that we could stop with the men-bashing in this thread. Maybe most knitters are women, but not all. Maybe most clueless non-knitters are men, but not all. Just ask Franklin, who knits excellently, or the woman who asked him if he learned "in prison". I'm not saying that there wasn't discrimination in this case, I just agree with one of the Harlot's many commenters, who said that cluelessness crosses gender lines. Anyway, there are plenty of non-knitters who would never have made the mistake of underestimating knitters this severely. Most of them probably live with a knitter, or have one in their lives, but I think that's the way to covert them: one on one. End rant.]

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out which word set off the alarm bells at the bank.

Sock.

Knitting.

Club.

Sock. BMFA sells sock yarn separately, so that can't be it.

Knitting. Everything they sell has something to do with knitting.

Club?

I just don't get it.

They actually call it the Rockin' Sock Club. Is "Rockin'" a dangerous word now?

My head is full. And not in a good way.

This cold ... ahh, this cold. It hangs on, doesn't it? Congestion and lethargy.

The good news is, I have enough energy to work. This is good news for several reasons, one of which is that after last week, I'm into negative numbers on sick time.

The bad news is, working takes most of my energy. When I got back from my trip, I triaged the pile of mail into Important and Not. The Important pile only got dealt with last weekend (a week later), but the Not pile is still a pile, and it's getting bigger, not smaller. Things aren't getting cleaner, either.

And I'm going away this weekend, which seemed like a good idea when I made the plans, but exhausts me to think of now. I sure hope I regain some energy before then.

So, in the spirit of ignoring problems until they go away (shut up, it works!), here's the photo montage of Some of My 2006 Knitting, as Promised.

I swear this photo wasn't sideways when I uploaded it. Oh, well. Curse you, blogger, you win! A light blanket for those chilly Florida nights; merry Christmas, Daddy! (It was actually crocheted. Sshhh!)


And a soft pillow for Mum!


Wristwarmers for me, I'm wearing them at work and they really help.


A triangle shawl for my aunt. Boy, when you knit point-up, those last few rows are long, aren't they? :)


And I can never resist the call of the wild.
"She's got the camera out again."
"Ignore her. She'll go away eventually."

old year's resolutions

Well, between getting over this effing cold, and headaches, life has been a bundle of joy lately, hasn't it? It could certainly be worse, I know: I am mostly over the cold, just still sooo congested; and the headaches that bothered me Saturday-Sunday-Monday weren't bad today. And hey, global warming or whatever, this is my idea of January weather. But still.

Anyway, I got to thinking. I very much enjoy reading some people's new-year's inspired lists, like Laurie's, but somehow it doesn't inspire me to do anything similar. And then, light bulb over head! I realized that if I had tried in any way to predict my own 2006, I would have missed my major milestones completely. So I am going to look back on what I did last year, which since it was goodness knows one hell of a year ought to inspire me sufficiently for 2007. The first three are the biggies, but the small victories are victories as well.

1. Bought a condo. Not that the idea itself was totally unforseen. I first thought of Buying in 2004, just before my last job announced the site closing and changed my plans. But still, somehow this felt like a whirlwind surprise. And I'm so happy with it!

2. Bought a car. Actually, I knew I was going to do this. My previous car was more than 11 years old, and I had car trouble coming back from Grandma's last Christmas, so yes, I could have predicted that I would have a new car by December 31. Still, I'm happy with it!

3. Went to Hawaii. This was totally out of the blue, and great fun. Amazing, really. Just for example: in 2 and a half weeks, I took something like 700 photos. Can you say digital-camera-excess-itis? Whew!

4. Started blogging. I had no plans to do this, and am actually kind of enjoying expressing my thoughts and sending them into the void. And it's such good writing practice!

5. Expanded my knitting horizons. Having the basics of hats mastered, this year I made shawls and socks and gained confidence in my ability to experiment and visualize. I reaffirmed my committment to using yarn I like, even if it's a) expensive, or b) of a fiber scorned by others. If I like it, and I can afford it, why not? If I want to make it, why not? Maybe I'll post a montage soon.

That's what springs to mind. Now, Pan is meowing for my lap, the Bruins are getting ready for the third period, and I'm still dragging with the effects of this cold, so that'll have to do it, oh my legion of adoring fans. Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow...

Cough, cough

The idea was that I would have a wonderful week with the family (check), then have two days at home in which to transition through end-of-holiday and traveling modes into work and normality, via laundry, groceries, etc, with long stops at reassure-the-cats.

Instead, I came home with a sore throat, and have been sick for four days now. The computer hasn't been turned on in 3. I had 51 e-mails waiting for me. I have been out of the house once in four days: I made a must-have-lotion-Kleenex run to CVS yesterday. Friends brought me a few emergency groceries before that, since I didn't even have milk in the house, but it's still pretty pathetic here chez lethargy. Let's not discuss how long it's taking me to type this, or how many mistakes I'm making.

The funny thing is, I never call in sick to work when I'm not sick, I'm kind of superstitious that way, but when I am sick, I feel like they ("They") don't believe me. It isn't just this job, I've always felt this way. And yet as a quasi-reasonable adult, I know that there's no point in going in and spreading around germs, and no point going in too soon and setting myself back. And I know that you can't set a time limit on how long you'll be sick and then declare it to be over: that's it, I've been sick long enough. But I keep thinking, I should go in tomorrow.

And part of me says yes, if you feel better.

But part of me thinks I should try anyway, even if I don't feel better. Though I know that's stupid.

Especially since my arms are getting tired just from leaning on the desk to type this. I think that may be a sign of someone who should not be driving a car, don't you?

I have to go lie down now. If one short and only semi-rational blog entry is wearing me out like this, I doubt I'll be at work tomorrow. Let's hope for a new year miracle, shall we?