We're having a party in my office tonight. It is for 400 people. Our office cannot hold 400 people. I have been the de facto (defined in this case to mean no one else was doing it so it fell on me) executor of this party (executor defined in this case to mean that other people do the planning, I do what they tell me, and then they get mad at me when the results--i.e., what they planned--are not ideal).
We are undergoing a software renovation which will change the entire manner in which our business operates. There are some hiccups in this process.
Everybody is stressed out by these two issues, and are exacerbating each other's stress levels, and imagining having conversations that they don't end up having in reality and then getting angry when the imagined participant (defined in this case to be me) in the conversation has no memory of it.
Dave's back, while not exactly getting worse, is not getting better either. His chiropractor chose this week to be on vacation (Dave called them. If it'd been me, it would have been a conversation about doctors on vacation the likes of which hasn't been seen since Knocked Up). His medicine of choice has been bourbon. (Related note: I had been planning on drinking a lot at this party tonight in order to make it mildly bearable, but as we won't be serving much in the way of food beyond chips and crackers, I'm rethinking that. My new goal for the evening is a) not to puke, and b) not to clean up anyone else's puke. This is gonna be one. classy. party). Dave has to come to the party tonight to provide me with love and support or I will kill him, but his back requires not being shoved into and having a place where he can sit down. This is a dilemma.
I treated myself to a new bag. This bag:
I love it. It is perfect in all ways. It's just the right size that it fits comfortably and doesn't bonk into people on the subway (and I took that zipper tag thing off), and the two little pockets hold my cellphone, keys and iPod with wonderfully easy access, I can fit a book in this back pocket you can't see, and the interior is big enough to hold Much Knitting. A sweater would fit in there.
And so I'm back to knitting on the PATH train.
Cherry, by Anna Bell, using KnitPicks Shine Sport in Orchid (yes, the same yarn used for the thong. That's why I had that yarn for the thong).
So far quite delighted by it--the little birds cable in such a way that I don't technically need a cable needle, but can just let the slipped stitches dangle while I rearrange the stitches on the needle. Much better for subway knitting.
However. Note the tangled ball of yarn in the upper right hand corner of the photo. That is what occurred in my bag while I was knitting this morning. I don't know what kind of monkey came with my new bag, but some lemur or other will have to pay. I don't have time to unravel and rewind that ball. I have parties to set up and attend. (Although, the astute will note that here I am, typing a blog post, rather than setting up, or indeed, doing work. I'm in the eye of the storm. I took advantage).
Knitting and New Bag belong in the category of Good Things. I need them to be there. For my sanity.
Gonna kick a little monkey ass.