Wednesday, April 05, 2006
I have no idea what tenterhooks are, but I'm on them anyhow. I have no news of any sort, so I shall bore the crap out of you by telling you all about it anyhow. Ready?
The Hat for Ben is going to be a stocking cap for some reason, so with all of the freaky decreasing I think I have 98 rounds left to go. If it sucks, I'll rip back and it'll be a toque and to hell with it. It's looking pretty good, though. I heart me some Magpie and if and when my finances are good again (and I'm not on this stupid yarn fast -- which I'm still on and haven't broken or anything) I'm gonna get my ass on eBay and buy a whack more. I think I deserve it.
The Sock for Sandra is about 1/3 done. I can't find it but presumably it's somewhere in my house. Last I saw it, it was being fondled by a bunch of knitters at Rachael and Lala's weeding. I'm hoping nobody ate it. If I can't find it, I'm going to blame Lala.
The folks from the house called today. They said that they didn't know what to do -- I have good references, I pay my rent, I'm employed and bla bla bla, but I have a bad credit rating. I explained that if yours is the only income and you have a small child and a husband in school and get dinged with $41k from the ol' leaky condo scandal, that it takes years to recover. If they want to rent to me, great (I did point out that I'm not asking for credit, therefore my credit rating should be less valid than if I was, say, buying a car) and if they don't want to, I'll deal with it. I told them I really wanted the house though and I get the feeling they're going to go for it. They've promised an answer by Friday.
I see the surgeon tomorrow at 10:30. The boob hurts and is a little ickful but I'm not particularly concerned. Details tomorrow afternoon. No more photos, though, because it's pretty disgusting. No, really. I told Jen all about it and she didn't eat dinner because of it (or at least that's her story, however it doesn't seem to have stopped her drinking the best part of a gallon of sake in the bathtub).
I'm now going to pluck l'enfant from the tub, stuff her in bed and knit and drink beer until I pass out on my nose.
Back to work tomorrow -- I may as well take advantage of my last night of freedom!