The trouble with work is that you have to go. And the reason you have to go is because you're a grown up. Sadly, unless grown-ups go to work they don't get paid (now is not the time for a rant about people who sponge off the state) and they have no where to live and no food. And no money for wool. But, what is the point of going to work if you have no time to enjoy the house you work to pay for and can't knit with the wool you've saved up to buy?
I've been at work this week, in between the house hunting, finding a present for mum's 50th, boyfriend's 27th, friend's wedding (including making my dress - what was I thinking??) I've now got Emily (the doll) with no hat or ringlets, a jumper I can't bear to finish, the first quarter of my tank top done and mum's bag...don't even get me started. I've got two weeks to knit and felt two flowers and sew the lining and the handles in place and if it takes as long as putting the stiffner in today (which took the same amount of time to watch a recording of the Apprentice and the after show) I might just have it done by Christmas. Plus, I've got four deadlines in seven weeks for uni and I think my brain might explode.
And with that, I'm going to have a knit...although what I'm going to knit I really couldn't tell you!
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