Knitting

I've spent the last few days doing very little of import besides mucking around around with my sleeping patterns and thinking about stuff I *should* be doing. Like, right now, I *should* be emailing the prospective housemates whittled down from a mountain of ads. Or, failing that, I should be applying for a job I know I'm underqualified for but could probably do. Failing even that, I should be cleaning up my bedroom, because despite vows and declarations of all kinds that I Will Be Neat while here (and henceforth, and always, and all that jazz), it's taken me under two weeks to pile half of my life onto the bedroom floor. You guessed it - the other half is on chairs and tables. I have been doing one productive thing this afternoon. Mum and I finally started the knitting lessons. It's probably not going to take me all that long to learn to do the various stitches, but not calling out sheepishly for Mum's help every time I fuck up might take a little longer. I've only done a few rows of plain stitching thus far and I'm enjoying it, and looking forward to becoming proficient enough that I can actually make things for other people, whoever those poor, beleaguered 'other people' might be. I have to wonder, though, if I'm going to be the only knitter in the world who quietly hums the Red Dwarf theme song under her breath, stopping only occasionally to say "Oh, go over there, you silly bastard. Why won't you do what I tell you to?" Seems my capacity for pointless verbal abuse isn't limited to technological crises after all...