Ugh. Mondays hurt sometimes. Maybe if I had slept more, but no, school creeps into your nighttime sleepy brain and keeps poking you with a taser until you can’t help but stress out about the 17 million things you’re supposed to do. Today. Before noon. I did make it through the 62 emails about late work that I had from November 13 on. So there, you little widgets.
So we went to Lake Arrowhead for about 24 hours to hang out with my parents and the family we used to always have Thanksgiving with…so I hadn’t seen many of those folks for quite a few years…that was a good thing.
It was a gorgeous day, no need for long sleeves, beautiful skies and view of the lake…
Apparently it was snowing last year, but I missed that one…
And there’s the inevitable after-dinner slump…this picture could be any year, just move in one dog or another. That’s my dad. And Katey. Or however you spell her name.
I started cutting stuff out Saturday night (after I finished grading the major project…graded in the car on the way up and then finished in the living room at Arrowhead)…
We came home to happy animals…
Who probably missed us. Maybe.
I did two nights on this, both in the chain stitch area on the top left…although I added some stem stitch and buttonhole stitch to fill the space.
And I did a few hours of schoolwork: finished a worksheet, panicked with my co-teacher via text, did warmups, and dealt with those 62 emails.
Then I started cutting stuff out. I didn’t have the brainpower to copyedit…that will be tonight.
Puppy was very tired…
I know you just come here for the puppy pictures…
I cut for almost 4 hours, on top of the 2 hours from the night before, so just so you know, this is what 6 hours of scissoring (not that kind) looks like. On the left is the massive pile of stuff I still need to cut out. On the right is what is done. In the bag is all the trash bits, in case I need to cut something tiny out later that I lost.
It happens, all too frequently.
Here’s side views, so you can see that the to-be-cut box still looks like it’s almost full.
Oh yeah, I’m not even halfway done. No way. And I want to be done by Saturday. Uh huh. OK. Well. A girl woman can dream. I hate it when grown women are called girls. Or when our boobs are called The Girls. Sigh. I hate it when I have to justify not having taken my ex-husband’s name when I got married and then having to change it back. Just throwing that out there. Not sure why all that was in my head. Really it’s better if it’s OUT.
Anyway. I’ll be copyediting and cutting stuff out tonight. You can count on that.
*Tom Waits, Hold On
