It always seems like a good idea at the time...
Trust me. I'm a doctor...
|Yesterday's patient ended up arriving at 11:45PM, so I got home around 2AM, then we got up at 6AM to drive into Toronto to sign the papers at the lawyer's office. I am now nauseatingly tired, but keep getting my nth wind (I think n = 38 right now), so instead of napping this afternoon, I uploaded photos into Ravelry.|
See how this sari yarn is frayed? It kind of reminds me of my nerves right now. We got posession of the house today, and lugged 99% of our belongings from the rental house into Toronto to start the long arduous unpacking process. I found many things to fret about: I had to do an 847 point turn to park my car in our carport (it's off the backlane, and the garages/fences on the other side are only a few inches away from the lane.) We have to get a parking pass for The Gambler's car so that he can park on the street, but it's not entirely sure how long it takes to have the pass issued. It turns out that the house was only roughed in for Central Vac. The empty rooms look tiny (of course, in some cases this is no illusion - the 2nd and 3rd bedrooms are tiny). There is not loads of closet space, and I have alot of clothes. You know how on the current generation of makeover shows, the makoverers go through the makeoveree's closet and toss out the stuff that doesn't work for them? I wonder if you can hire people to do that for you in real life. Not a personal shopper - just a totally objective person who could say "That really doesn't do anything for you" with some modicum of authority. The closest I have come across was when a consignment store that I used to frequent sent out a mailing saying that they would go through your wardrobe with you and help you pick out the stuff to get rid of, and possibly consign some of it for you. However, I would be pretty suspicious that they might be more apt to tell you to get rid of something if they thought that it would sell easily. We have to figure out where we are going to put our recycling bins now that we have a galley style kitchen. And Thursday morning (my first day of commuting to work) I have to be at the hospital by 7 AM.
But at least we have a great shower (The Gambler gave it a test-drive this evening). And we did have a chance to make some decisions where pieces of furniture will go. Several times I just laid on the floor to determine how tight of a fit things would or wouldn't be.
Speaking of Ravelry(You may have forgotten by now that I did so in the first paragraph of this post. I like to combine tangential thinking with a habit of picking up a conversation where it left off, even though the other party in the conversation has since moved on with their life and has no idea what I am talking about), I was looking at my stats and realized that I now have 99 friends (an explanation for non-Ravelry participants: you can add someone to your friend list just by clicking a button - they don't necessarily have to approve of being linked to you. However, they don't necessarily have to add you to their list of friends. It's kind of the reverse of yearbook signing protocols). So the next person I add with be my 100th friend, which is one of those things that has somewhat artificial significance. I thought to myself - "Hey, I could add a certain Famous Knitter who I personally think has gone a bit overboard in the 'us and them' concept as applied to knitting". And then I laughed so hard that I scared Somerset (she and Greedo are part of the 1% of our belongings that remain in the rental). I kill me sometimes.
And for those of you who are waiting with baited breath to see the soaked-in-water-and-then-in-salt-water-then- re-blocked Soleil:
Hopefully tomorrow - I'm planning on wearing it to work, and will get The Gambler to take a picture of me wearing it when I get home.
Wow. Home. I have a home again.