And It Just Goes Downhill from Here

Having spent most of the day in the dentist's chair, finally getting that year-old abscessed tooth dealt with, I'm in a world of hurt.

Yarn helps. So do beads. So do Vargas girls.


The yarn is a prize from Kara, and tired and bleary-eyed as I was last night, I kept clutching it to me in IHOP, trying to keep it away from stickiness and trying to figure out what brand of candy it was making me crave. I promise to pay it forward soon.

The beads for the Mardi Gras poncho I managed to find on a break from the drilling, and x-rays, and more drilling, and more x-rays. While my student dentist was in class, I was supposed to find a public libary* and grade papers. I did, four at least, before the blinding pain--I never could figure out if it came from caffeine withdrawal, lack of solid food, really crappy student writing, or my tooth--drove me back outside, and oops, there was a bead store. I was pondering the expensive beads and about to give up, when I saw there was a giant tub o'beads in the back where one could fill a bag for $2.50. Perfect.

The Vargas girl is about to leave the frame shop where I work. I will miss her.

In the stack to grade:

• 10 10-page research papers
• 23 2- to 3-page compare/contrast papers
• 1 very badly written 5-page essay analyzing 2 articles
  
• 1 very badly written annotated bibliography of 10 sources
  
• 1 very badly written paper on environmental footprints
  

Incoming:

• 20 5-page proposal papers dealing with a local environmental issue
• 35 quizzes
• 20 final exams
• 35 3-page position papers complaining about the local community college
• effin' jury duty
• lesson plans for 2 substitutes during jury duty
  
• 5 rock star gigs in the next week and half
• 2 house guests

On hold:

• My effin' 40th birthday
• Xmas
• finding a zipper for the EZ ribwarmer
• finding beads for the mardi gras poncho
• finding beads for the Vogue anniversary scarf
• Ravelry
  
• finding buttons to redo a Skiff sweater for a friend
• sleep I actually managed a wee bit of this in the dentist's chair and was dreaming of brioche in the round and shouting, "Hah! I told you it could be done!" to a certain knitting doyenne when I was jabbed in the gum with a file. I suppose it still counts as sleep though. I wonder if she jabbed me because I actually was shouting in my sleep. I've been told I have marked tendencies in that direction.
  

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*clearly a typo, but since that's how I tend to say "library" when I's tired, being as how I'm from Baltimore, I'm leaving it, hon.