Disturbed night…

Dear Body,

We had a lovely night out with the knitters last night. There was scrummy Mexican food, there was lots of chatter and meeting of new people, there was laughter and mocking and there was knitting. Why do you always feel that you must punish me for having fun?

No love,

Me

Just waiting for my pills to kick in…

Last night I fully intended to go straight to bed when I got in. Except that I was still on a night out high and I spotted my lovely sock book abandoned on the coffee table. I’m itching to knit something for myself now so I made the mistake of picking it up and taking it into the bedroom. “I’ll just cast on for the gauge swatch, how much harm could I do?” thought I, as I picked up my Brittany dpns and dug out the really cheap acrylic wool that I bought for making little test socks.

The book recommended using Judy’s Magic Cast-On, so I settled down with the instructions and cast on. Then I unravelled it and tried again. Then I realised what it was actually doing, unravelled and cast on the correct number of stitches successfully. Then, of course, I just had to knit a couple of rounds just to check whether it was working. At 11.30pm I forced myself to stop and I read for a couple of minutes to work the knitting frenzy out of my brain. Despite being completely shattered, I decided not to sleep properly. In fact I was awake at 4.30pm feeling convinced that I hadn’t actually been asleep at all. Obviously that was when I went into a proper sleep (dreaming about work calling to announce they’d had a massive failure of every system so I didn’t need to go in) and woke up feeling even more drained and shattered than I was when I went to bed.

I’m actually glad that my aunt is coming for supper tomorrow rather than tonight because I plan on having a really early night and recovering a bit. Do you suppose anyone would notice if I slept through the team meeting today?

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