That was to say: I discovered that I had written a silly list yesterday. Sigh.

This is not a good day. I thought that I would just work through everything in the office, be a demon of efficiency, but I am self-conscious about my white blouse (too too small) and my wispy, wacky hair. It's just like being in elementary school again. Same white blouse that is really cool! and looks like in fits well enough in the dark at home in the morning! but turns out to reveal how ridiculously much bigger than all the other girls I am--same cowlick emphasizing my cross-eyedness and making me look like I came in on the short bus.

So I don't want to do anything that requires my going to the printer. And that's everything. Dangit, I am so miserable. :(

Hmm. Do you think it is disturbing when you make a to-do list?
What about when you don't remember having written it?

What about when all items on the list are suffixed with 'a-go-go'?

I am accomplishing much today. Payments have been sent out. Contracts signed. People are knitting merrily away, knowing that I am here to answer all their questions (eventually, at least). A photo shoot is a-going with an old chair and a set of billiard balls I drove up to Fort Collins. Whee! Nothing is more motivating than fearing a drowning death in a sea of paper!

Mama's birthday is next Wednesday, eep! Not sure what to do for her--she will be 59. That seems big, doesn't it? And I'm more or less broke and can't get her something extravagant....

Cool.

I never seem to get around to thinking out my manifesto. It seems, though, like something everyone should do at some point--or periodically, like a healthy brain check-up kind of thing. But I just don't seem to have the clarity of mind to do so much self-examination. My brain is full of lace and sweetheart mitten patterns. Can't believe that I am actually proud of myself for knowing that shoulder pads, chevrons, and knitted skirts are going to be coming back. Hello shallow. Apparently, reading A Tale of Two Cities isn't helping me be more grounded--of course, Dickens was a ridiculous sensationalist himself. Except when he was whacking great heaps of social criticism into his writing. Jeezi, I do want my writing to be pollitically profound, but I've got to be careful of making it simply into some crap, overfull vehicle. And careful of not being too fluffy.

Yeah, you can tell I haven't got a story in my head, can't you? Wait a minnit--I haven't had any coffee today. Okay, bye!

Everyone needs to read this.

Shaming is a dirty rotten device of the dirty rotten system; shaming's use is in its division of us all, and it's so goddam effective. Think about it.

Had a dream last night about traipsing over hill and dale in a sky-blue silk skirt with a green, knitted lace sheath.

Hmmm. I really like the idea of "punk not rock". Wonder if it will catch on in a visible-to-Time-Magazine kind of way, ever. *Really* like the idea of a PNR co-op....

Ran across an idea on the Knitlist today--felted wallets. Got a swatch already, yo.

Additionally, I signed up today to recieve the email version of The Writer's Almanac, and so can you, here. Would like to have the chance to breathe and close my eyes and listen to Keillor's voice every morning, but this is the modern world, and I'm already at work by then.

Hello people.

Do me (and everyone else in business) a favor. Do your own goddam Google search. Call 411 if you don't have a computer. Read instructions and look to see if the information you want is already with you. Don't say that you can ship something within three weeks and then still not have it in your warehouse five weeks later.

This has been a public service announcement on behalf of all those trapped in the office alone with a cold. Thank you.

Sounds about right.

Ivy came in late to work today and ordered 32 dollars worth of turn-of-the-last-century patterns. And you know what? I feel just fine about it, just fine. Got a corset pattern (for that Gibson girl waist) and a 9 gore skirt pattern, to go with the blouse. The skirt only comes in the one old size--24" waist, 42" hips, so it'll have to be adapted even if I wear the corset religiously.
And lengthened, of course. It would be sooo easy to have a 22" waist if I were 5 feet tall.

La la la, I hear the east coast is snowbound--but I live in a desert climate, ha ha!

(And I miss the coziness of a house full of people and love and snow at the window and winter light outside.)

Had an interesting weekend. Thought a lot, in my head.

Re-read Anne of Windy Poplars for the bazillionth time. Want to make this blouse in handkerchief linen. Want my life to be pretty.

Should clean my apartment, then, I guess, eh?

Ivy fevery. Mweh.

Hah-hah! New blog! Fresh start!

Gracious. You decide one day to wipe out your work, and suddenly you're google-able. Thanks, Ted!

My boss is soooo nice. She brought me a (color!) TV today, and has lent me a table and a chair, and doesn't even mock me when I screw up or have a bad day where I don't add anything to the office and can't remember what I was told moments before. Makes me happy and sad to be such a nincompoop. Two nice bosses in one lifetime--it's like I won the lottery!