I sincerely believe that school systems should give out paid mental health days. I don't know exactly what has caused it, but I've got a bad case of The Stupids and am plumb out of sick leave this year. I could use a couple of mental health days about now.
I don't know if it's the long stretch between spring break (week after Easter, but we Must. Not. call it Easter Break) and Memorial Day with no days off, or if it's traveling so much on the weekends, or if it's this pattern I'm test-knitting for Claudia, but I'm Stupid. Nothing goes right. I can't think any longer. The simplest tasks become monumental disasters. I don't want to work.
Not that that's news. But after feeling so great since spring break, right now I just want to hide. The feeling started yesterday and is getting stronger. I don't want to do the things my boss asks me to do. I don't have any energy or motivation. I want to go outside and feel the sun on my face and do nothing.
I take that back. I do want to plant the flowers and herbs I bought last week. We have a great horticulture program here at school and they grew some particularly nice flowers and herbs this spring. I took home three boxes, bought several more at WalFart, and I want to dig in the dirt and see the color of the flowers and smell the herbs. I just don't want to do it today.
But the worst part of The Stupids is affecting my knitting. Claudia asked me to test-knit a pattern for her using her glorious Fingering 55, 55% silk 45% merino, in an earthy colorway (if I could remember what it was, I'd tell you, but The Stupids has interfered with my memory, which is bad on a good day). It's a simple pattern, garter stitch, yo, slip first stitch purl last stitch pattern. Wouldn't you think I could handle that? After all, I can knit socks. If I can knit socks, I can knit this with my eyes closed.
Well, knitting it in the dark certainly didn't help any, but I kept forgetting to purl the last stitch, and that's crucial to the look--and the blocking--of the piece, so I've un-knit more than I've actually knitted. Many, many times. I'm ready to throw the whole thing into the river. Any river. The creek at home will do. But that gorgeous yarn, and my fear of Claudia's reaction, plus the promise of much more yarn when I turn this finished piece in, keeps it in my hands or knitting bag where I'll give it yet one more try. And another. And another and another and another.
Because I sure don't expect the rest of this thing to go any better.
(This doesn't show the luminous beauty of this yarn at all. Maybe someday I'll get a photo in the sun--if I ever get out in the sun again, that is.)