I haven’t been blogging much lately. No real reason, and my head is full of half started bits and bobs that I’ve not had the energy to convert to something worth reading. Like the Pants Situation. That’s the one where I found some Perfect Pants, disposed of ALL of the less than perfect pants to homes anew, then the allegedly Perfect (but actually complete and utter fuckers) Pants shrank. Did get my money back, but am left pantsless. Which wouldn’t be an issue if we were actually having a normal spring/summer rather than the fuck it’s cold I wish I had pants season we’re currently enjoying. So hey, I look professional from the waist up. And chilly below.
And the follow on from the Winter Clothes Kon Maudy business. That’s the one where I discover that I don’t really have enough “summer” tops if it does actually warm up. This leaves me with another quandary – primarily because I can’t find anything I like that isn’t ridic expense, and I’ll be buggered if I spend $60 on a fucking cotton t-shirt. And after previous Kon Maudy experiences, I’m not buying shit because it will do and it’s better than nowt. But the half arsed spring/summer we’re managing means I am surviving. Did have a Wardrobe Emergency the other day. Well, wasn’t actually a wardrobe emergency, more a trusted the weather forecast combined with the work air-conditioning set on Antarctic instead of Ambient. Easy mistake to make, apparently. Ended up with a new cardy and another long sleeved shirt (oops). Cardy is good (wearing it now. Think it’s down to less than $10 a wear. It will be free by the end of summer). Long sleeved shirt in white and linen. Can’t go wrong really.
So there’s an update on my wardrobe in two paragraphs. More than enough. I have been a tiny bit more stressed than normal lately, too. Just a tiny bit. Lots of stuff that is out of my control going on. While I can control how I react to things, when there’s lots and lots and lots of things that need controllable reactions… to be honest, it’s easier to just run around in circles flapping my hands and yelling fuck you all you fuckers and hide under the doona with a good book and hope all the stuffs goes away.
Coincidentally, one thing I have actually been doing a LOT of is in fact reading. Over the last few years, I’ve managed to read somewhere between 20 and 30 books each year. This is a complete travesty, as BC (before childerbeasts) I would read somewhere between two and four books a week (even while studying and working full time); and if I was going on The Holidays, minimum requirement for a week away was ten books. Over the last few years, I’d be lucky to read 25 books, and as long as I had two books for a week away, set like concrete, mate. This year I have already read FIFTY books, and there’s still a month to go. I started slowly, read a couple of graphic novels, read some old favourites… still prefer police procedurals and urban fantasy. But I’ve discovered Australian Noir. It broke the ice somewhat and I’ve been reading almost like the person formerly known as the Maudy who who formerly read a lot. Of the list in that article, I’ve read most of the authors, and of the ones I have read, I’ve read most of them this year.
Did read a couple of duds (looking at you, Mr Reacher. There comes a time in a bloke’s life he has to face up to retirement. Ahem) BUT there was only one book I didn’t finish. Good year for books though, generally.
The other thing I’ve done is crochet a lot. I discovered I am better at crochet than I thought. I’m now a prize winning crocheter and everything. In two competitions even. Although, it was for the same thing, so yeah. Maybe I’m not that good. Although the bit that won the prizes was pretty damn ace. Anyway, this year, I’ve learned how to do tapestry crochet and overlay crochet and how to crochet in a flat circle. I am mildly impressed with myself. Particularly the project I’m doing now. I thought it would be at the far limit of my abilities, and it’s not. Last time I checked, I was on gauge and everything – which, considering I am a “high and tight” crocheter, is a minor miracle in itself. Maybe I am not shit at crochet? And maybe you can teach a slightly more mature dog new tricks?
I also developed a bit of an obsession with my fitness tracker. I managed to do 10K steps almost every single day (missed less than five days, I think) for about 22 months. That’s pretty good really. But I was obsessed. Tracking my steps and tracking my sleep. And beating myself up over missing my goals with one or the other (ahhhh, I see what’s going on here, something to stress over that is not only in my control, but something that I can control. Who would have thought? Fuck, I’m predictable.)
Anyway, the band on my tracker broke. What was a girl to do?
- Rush out and buy a new band?
- Rush out and buy a new tracker?
- Flap around in a circle a bit and internally debate ordering a new band or a new tracker ?
- Do nothing?
Weirdly, it turns out I’m doing option 4 for the time being. My particular tracker is superseded, so although it still works fine, it’s a bit harder to find a replacement band for it. If I’m really using it as a “controlled stressor” then that’s a tiny bit fucked up and I should perhaps back away from the tracking for a bit and work out what I was actually getting out of it before I do anything more.
I have been missing the availability of having the time in an easily accessible device (as long as the light was right); so again with the who would have thoughts… I have started wearing my watch on the “wrong” hand instead. Time keeping device, easily accessible, and can read it regardless of light conditions. Unless it’s like proper dark and all. (I am some kind of weirdo right handed right hand wearing watch person. Wearing my watch on my left hand is a bit peculiar. But I will live. And the time is more useful than steps)
So yeah, that’s me. Reading other people’s words instead of writing my own. Tying ever more complex knots in a piece of string. Walking a lot and sleeping not so much. Two big ticket items on my Stress list are more or less resolved, and while I’d still like to run away to a tropical island for a little while, eh. I’ll live.