I can't believe this has happened. I'm so annoyed, I may just burst. And at the same time, I'm relieved and fully plan to use this little setback as a perfect excuse to A) procrastintae profusely on my projects and B) alliterate to my hearts content. But first, the back story!
Last Wednesday I was curled up in Erick's bed, warm and sprawly in a queen-sized set of UofM-colored sheets. Everything was fine. Then, Erick himself toddled in and curled up next to me (he sleeps on the hide-a-bed when I visit in order to Keep Up Appearances for his lovely parental units) and said "baby, I don't feel so good..." So like any good Big Sister has learned to do, I kissed his forehead. Yep, fever. And for the last 5 days of my trip, he alternately sweated and shivered on the hide-a-bed while I worked on my sock and drank Airborne like it's going out of style. Poor boy, he gets fretful when he's ill and says things like "I'm sorry I'm sick, I'm ruining your trip, where is that ginger ale you promised me? I need my ginger ale! Why are you so mean to me? I like you," and snuggles up until the pattern repeats. It's trying, but it's adorable. Men, hmpf!
I thought the Airborne had done its job, and came home on Sunday. This morning I woke up with a suspicious lump in the back of my throat - one that says "you may not get away with this..." So I feel a sickness coming on. It's possible that I got it from Erick, but it's also possible that the blogosphere made me sick. Wendy was sick, Stephanie McPhee was sick, and now maybe me. What illustrious company I'm in!
But the impending doom of Blog Flu isn't what annoys me. Sure, being ill sucks bigtime, like onions. The question is, what do knitters do when they are under the weather? They finish projects. They work on easy stuff and catch up on Grey's Anatomy, which feverish recent Michigan graduates seem to have an aversion to, even though their nurses luuuust after McSteamy with a passion bordering on the obsessed. (On second thought, perhaps it is the lust for McSteamy that the UofM graduates have an aversion to. This requires more research.) And what could possibly make a knitter unable to knit? Well, a swollen tendon in the little finger of her left hand, for starters. That's right, I have a Knitting Related Injury. During the last repeat of Egyptian Sock #1, I noticed that my little finger was going prickly. Then the joint started hurting. I bound off the sock just in time for some irritating, my-knuckle-needs-to-pop feelings, and haven't picked up my needles since.
There is hope on the horizon, however. I mentioned my KRI to my professor, who assured me that one completed sock was fine (I sense an eternal excuse for Second Sock Syndrome coming on) and that I shouldn't strain myself. Which, like I said before, is a perfect reason to procrastinate. Unfortunately, my usual form of procrastination comes with CraftLit or Lime&Violet on the speakers and a pair of needles in my hands, so we'll see how long all of that works out.
Okay, I'm done whining. I think I'll go play some video games instead of writing my papers... doesn't that sound like a brilliant plan? I thought so too.
Mr. Darcy is in his element - in the closet and surrounded by mylar. He was happy to have me come home though - after an appropriate period of ignoring me for abandoning him, that is.