Even I am sick of hearing about my woes with the Ravenclaw sock. Especially after the long drawn out process of the Gryffindor socks. I actually had a dream that I was at an all crafters event and I was working on the same sock and it was decorated for the holidays. Not Labor Day, Back to School (trust me, holiday to my poor dog) or Halloween, full blown December style green and red (same old grey for the color blind) holiday. That's why I actually woke up before the pigs today.
I was shocked awake. Is it really December? Am I just awaking from a coma? So, I missed the Harry Potter release, millions of kids know what happened and I don't, and no one managed to finish that damn pair of socks for me??? I better at least have no bed sores, be pregnant, and have lost some weight. I would suspect this foul occurrence would be the cause of the extended use of the Barbie tire on my car.
Things people can do for me if I go into a coma with good chances of coming out by December.
1. Play the Jim Dale CD of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to me. (My luck I'll hold onto the coma until the end of the book and then wake up fine right after.)
2. Finish the Ravenclaw socks for me. I am cool with random gauge and random stripes, that's pretty much the route I am on anyway. Carina, that's all you. Please put them on my feet.
3. Teach Pig 2 real Spainish. I think he needs to move past what my limited colors and numbers vocab, and what I've picked up on Dora the explorer have to offer.
4. Sue the hell out of Mazda for the letting me drive so long on a crappy spare leading to such a horrible situation.
Do you see the stress that this whole slow sock knitting/waiting for Harry Potter thing is doing to me?
You should have seen me after Pig 1 was born and the Ogre made the mistake of ordering the 4th book through his Science Fiction Book Club (please, feel free to collect yourself.) I had a new born baby, and I was stalking the post box, and calling the local book stores asking them how many copies they had sold and then questioning them about, on average, how many 12 year olds they thought had the book, and how fast those kids could read.
I then used the random numbers that the exasperated John Rollins (remember them) book store employees would give me, make up elaborate equations and shout out numbers at the Ogre when he got home from work, like so..."Did you know that there are probably 2-21 kids who are 12 that are at chapter 12 or higher and my book is at the Belleville sorting station?" It wasn't pretty.
I was really fixated on the fact that I could still get the book 2 days late and know what happened before those darn 12 year olds. This was going to be accomplished through training, skill and determination.
I also happened to be staying up all night feeding Pig 1 (we don't call'em pigs for nothing), I had access to a fridge, a bathroom and the Ogre didn't mind if I left the lights on all night.
Competing against people who don't know I am battling them, and who frankly don't care.
Well, we will just have to call it SPACE MADNESS. Oh, I mean, MUGGLE MADNESS. As far as you know.