OK, it’s not football season, and maybe I’ve exaggerated the score a little. Maybe it should be two points from the free-throw line; it certainly isn’t a home run. Maybe it’s just a little skirmish over by the penalty box, with no teeth lost. Maybe I should stay away from sports metaphors entirely?
Anyway, I grabbed a sheaf of papers I had stacked on top of a box in my bedroom when I had my friends over for dessert [how many weeks ago?], which of course had slipped sideways and was threatening to slither over and eat my umbrella swift and ball winder. And I sorted through everything while the tub filled. This stack for the recycling bin. This handful into the shredder. The bits of rubber cement from “If you spend this much, we’ll give you this much off” cards, into the waste basket. A minuscule amount of items to file, and a slightly larger assortment of charities that I want to send a little something to, when the bonus hits later this month. [@ my LDS friends and kids: you weren’t the only ones who were listening when they gave that address on acquisitiveness and stewardship last Saturday; this past year has been an ongoing revision of budgeting and priorities.]
Doesn’t mean that the filing will actually get done before I hop into the tub, or even tonight. Baby steps, baby steps. But I have nearly reached the layer wherein resides my W-2 for last year; ergo, there is hope.
Much progress on BittyBit’s sleeves yesterday. I am roughly halfway up the increase portion. I haven’t memorized the pattern yet, but I am nearly to that point in the process where I can look at the fabric and see when something is wrong.
It was so good to be at Knit Night last night. We didn’t stay all that long, but oh, just to be in the company of friends.
Today I am taking the remnant of chili from Monday night, to mix with my dab of leftover soup in the fridge at work and the last of the insipid chicken stock, in the hope that it will all come out even. And another couple squares of cornbread to pour it over. I just hope it will not be 80°F when I leave the office tonight, but at least I will not freeze at my desk.
I got the vacation letters out yesterday; in fact, I was running them through the postage meter, having passed his secretary on my way to the mail room and informed her that they were done, just about when he sent us an email saying that he really needed them to get out, because he doesn’t want the court to schedule anything during his non-refundable vacation. By the time I got back to my desk, she had responded that they were going out in yesterday’s mail.
I also did a small project for the office manager, confirming that all but one invoice on a statement had in fact been paid, and typed the draft for that invoice for signature and mailing today, because the legal secretary was up to her ears in alligators. I pay bills for that secretary from time to time, and it is entirely possible that *I* was the person who thought I was paying two invoices with one draft but only paid enough for one. [Not likely, but certainly possible. I am not one of those thought I made a mistake once, but I was wrong folks.]
Little Mary Sunshine, that’s me. And if I don’t hop into the tub right now, I am going to be the Little Match Girl [i.e., without a job], because nobody wants to sit next to somebody whose hair looks like this.
Thankfully, I have clean socks. And shortly, clean me to go with it. Happy Wednesday, everybody! Go knit something!
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!