They Have to Hire Me Now

Because I've come up with the most fabulous idea they've ever had on television. I think that Hugh needs to be a guest on the LLS, and it should be Naked Week. Or they can just tell him it is. Whichever. Craig's considering it. He has to drop trou too. I would be happy to bake him a pie for his troubles.

A Short Craigspam, for Medicinal Purposes

Lost My Mojo

I can't get anything done. Nothing! The past two weeks have been worthless for me, other than dealing with my daughter's latest health crisis, which is a constant thing. No writing, no good cooking, no social life, no nothing. I feel stoned with or without my meds, except with them I have a slight headache and lean to the left. Being neurologically flavorful is no fun.

I have stuff to write, but can't get it together. Not at JT, not at the Acoustic Cafe. I made several attempts at knitting socks this month (a hint of foreboding) which all resulted in a ball of yarn that has been frogged five or six times and now has bad knitting juju. I put that aside for some cotton. I figured how complicated could a washcloth be? Argh. Mind you, I recently finished an aran sweater for my son. That's no small task. I should be able to knit a frickin' square with pretties in it. It's just not there for me right now. I don't know what to make of it.

I've kinda been running with scissors lately. Maybe this is the universal "you'll put someone's eye out" slowdown. Maybe I can't force my brain, but I'm still trying to force my fingers. Meanwhile, I can't even speak English. At least my kids have a clue what I'm saying and are used to me. Oh, and guess who is headed back to L.A. for "three weeks", which really means four, five, six, who knows?

Here I Sit

Not packing for our trip to PA tomorrow. All the clothes are packed, but I have to do meds and toiletries, which I can't do until after we're done using them in the morning, but still, I'm sure there's something I could be doing, like packing my purse/diaper bag. That's besides dishes and laundry. I might just knit and go to bed and then get up early. I'll move the laundry over, but I hold out no great hope for the dishes.

Meanwhile, I'm pondering the experience I had earlier this week. Never before have I heard death metal played on a digeridoo. My kidneys are still shaking.

I'm an Idiot.

So my special project commences tonight. I'm fairly confident about my work on it. The only thing that could blow it would be nerves. So guess what? I'm very nervous about being very nervous. I need to be smacked in the head.

"Special" Parenting Moment

This morning I was explaining to my daughter why it's important to be able to write well, and how it can make a difference between who gets chosen for a particular job, grant, school, etc. My 5yo chimed in.

5yo: Do you need to write to get a job picking up litter?

ME: No.

5yo: YAY!