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Push upstairs. May 4, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.

I always seem to type here at work.

It isn’t because I don’t /like/ typing excessive verbiage at home. But, there are so many other distractions there…the TV is on and I might be listening to music and also knitting while trying to clean up a little and find my other sock, and among all this setting out thoughts in sentences and paragraphs completely slips my mind. So, here I am at work, typing at long last.

You did see the title of this thing? There is a good reason it is called ‘Eventually’. Because, if it seems I’ve dropped off the face of the earth…well, eventually something new will be posted. It’s the word of my life.

So, I seem to have developed some sort of life in the last two weeks. How ironic – I find friends and activities right as I’m packing and getting ready for a move. Just two days ago, I had three phone calls! Three! From three seperate people, none of which were my family! It was fantastic and unusual and I was delighted. This has never before happened to me ever in my life (which is really a little sad, if you dwell on it. I try not to.). All at once I have plans on evenings and things to do and people to ramble on to. It’s novel, but it does have the side effect of idle fingers – when I talk to people on and on, the need to type things on and on diminishes, until it’s been so long I feel guilty for not typing and start putting it off.

I know, the solution for not typing is to continue to not type? My mind is very strange.

I also worry about it being so long that nothing I type will make any sense and be interesting. I recently realized that I was completely missing the point and trying to write for an audience (Of, like, three people. But still.), when the initial purpose of this thing was to set out my day for Someone’s perusal in quiet moments – and if someone should happen across it, too, that’s fine. So here I am telling you about my three phone calls and my packing! Too often I think I lose the initial point of things and end up abandoning them – I really need to examine this more closely. Especially in writing – I begin because my head is full, and then stop because I feel it isn’t ‘good enough’, when personal writings need no common thread or plot or particular profficiency, unless you’re attempting to market them or sell them in a book or otherwise alter their reason for existing from ‘for me’ to ‘for a mass audience’. Simply posting them in public is not enough of a reason for requiring technical perfection and riveting prose, as nice as that might be to strive for. So, I will strive, but I will not demand, and hopefully more and more will find its way here, no matter how trivial.

I’ve had a very busy time lately – only one work-free day in two weeks! Three people are leaving, and the whole front desk is a little short staffed. I was sent here specifically to fill in when needed, so I’ve volunteered for more hours, and while the money is nice I’m starting to feel a little tight around the eyes and a little stretched and fuzzy mentally. The long upcoming drive will do me good, as much as I’m dreading the lead up – car fixing and packing and re-arranging and finding a place for the cats and so forth. I bought an iPod (lovely thing), so now I have hours and hours of driving music at my fingertips.

It /will/ be nice to start out a summer with money in the bank. I’ve gotten so used to that ‘winter layoff’ feeling that driving north with enough money for gas and food is exciting and novel.

I finished my big-little project involving the cashmere yarn pictured some weeks ago, and am preparing it for its long journey. I also owe someone a hat before I leave, but made a mistake in it and had to unravel a good two inches. I wasn’t very pleased at that, but I refuse to gift something with a glaring obvious mistake – it will always annoy me, knowing someone is wearing something and advertising my absentmindedness! (Even if they never noticed. I’m just picky like that). I would have brought said hat to work today to knit furiously on…but, alas, I can’t find it anywhere in my room. I have no idea where its wandered, my last clear recollection of it was bitterly ripping out to the mistake and picking up all the stitches. I know it’s there somewhere…I just wish I knew where! In lieu of that, I brought a sock in today. I’m finished with the heel (the nicest heel I have /ever/ turned, it’s simply beautiful) and am at the very easy cuff portion, where I just knit around and around and around absentmindedly until I feel it’s long enough to stop. It’s great traveling knitting, really – small enough to carry around, mindless enough to pull out at work without worrying about dropping stitches or missing yarnovers. The yarn is lovely and I’m not tired of it yet, which bodes well for the second sock! (I’ve yet to finish two seperate sock projects – imagine spending hours and hours making one thing, and turn turning around…and making the exact same thing. You see the dilemma.) I wound up three hanks of sock yarn at the yarn store, too, so I shouldn’t be wanting for sock yarn for the rest of my life. I also wound 1010 yards (that’s alot. It took me an /hour/) of laceweight angora/silk yarn. I have no idea what I’m going to knit with this. Part of me wants to embark on a lace-knitting adventure and do something complex and lovely and set it aside should I ever get married (How lovely would that be? The wearing handknit lace at your wedding, I mean. I’m overly sentimental.), or…I don’t know, some other big occasion when a white lace veil/shawl might be appropriate. The other part of me is terrified of knitting with it and wants me to just leave it in the ball and look at it longingly. But I should probably finish my socks and a hat and the sweater before I start on a Fantasy Lace Extravaganza, I think!

You probably skipped over that whole paragraph. =)

I am now sitting here drinking a fancy coffee and trying to remember all the different things I wanted to write about, and coming up blank. A lovely guest bought me a fancy coffee a bit ago, and that made me happy for a whole shift, which was splendid. I bought a fantastic skirt on sale and am still tickled about it. I’m plotting a package to send somewhere, and the planning makes me smile, even though I likely won’t do half the things that I think of because of practicality and finances and also a touch of sheer laziness!

Still, more and more I feel like myself, versus a lost person trying to construct a sense of self with bits and pieces of hobbies and opinions and habits. I knock this about often, but it really is remarkable to ‘wake up’ in the middle of the process and realize it’s happening and enjoying it.  At first, I was simply struggling along by myself, questioning every habit I was conscious of – did I like this music because he liked this music? Am I wearing this because I think I should or because I want to? Why do I walk like this? How do I stand? Now I find that I feel more at home in myself, more familiar with my mind, and with that, more willing and even eager to make changes. I found myself in my room too often? I forced myself to make flesh and blood friends, and discovered it wasn’t nearly so awkward or exhausing as I’d thought. I was dissapointed with myself for surrounding myself with materials and then doing nothing with them, so I forced myself to complete some projects, and have completed a few yarns and an intensive much-planned gift, half a sock and most of a second hat. And it’s simple progress and basic progress, but it gives me hope, and confidence, and that builds into a happier Brianna, who has felt the sad approaching and managed to fight it off. And even if the sad comes again, I know it will eventually end (there’s that word again), and will end sooner if I force myself to do and complete and work and talk and surround myself with all those things that keep me occupied and busy and complete.

And now, I need to find a title, and continue knitting and finish my coffee and perhaps do a little dance here behind the desk. Because that’s just fun to do sometimes.


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