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?