Kind of mirrors how I feel. Dreary, stormy, disheveled. I'm irritable, feeling sorry for myself, and angry. I want to enjoy the moment and savor the season, but the days are hurtling past, and there are so many things to do. Mundane, every day things like the laundry, the dishes, the grocery shopping are screaming at me, when all I want to do is sew, knit, cut and paste. And then whenever I go to work on a project, there's no space, no place for me to be able to work without interruption and mess. My projects, big and small, are all relegated to tote bags, piles on top of boxes, stacks on the corner of the kitchen counter, stuffed underneath the bed. Every three seconds I have to clean up and make someone something to eat, or rescue a piece of knitting before the needle gets pulled out and all 138 stitches lost, or stash the glue stick away on top of the bookshelf so little fingers don't twist the tube all the way up while the cap is still on.
I have no space of my own. And I'm going crazy.
I want warm and cheery, not snappy and mean, which is how I'm feeling lately. I don't know what it is, but I'd better be able to shake it pretty soon. Time's not stopping, and wasting it feeling like this would be pretty pathetic.
Back to less grumpy, mopey stuff soon, I hope...