-Dr. McCoy, Star Trek
So when you go out to buy your first sailboat, what you find out pretty durn quick-like is the definition of the word: compromise. Or as I learned it: you have speed, comfort, and size. Only 2 of these words will go together happily.
Such is the state of my slow-to-heal arm. I have: data-entry, knitting, and blogging. Only two of these activities can be done (and never as much as you want/need to do, ever) for me not to have shooting pain between my shoulder blades and down my arm.
So what is a girl to do? Lots of this:
It's a 662-page novel by Patrick Rothfuss. And this would have been enough to distract me from the pain and inability to keep my fingers busy and out of trouble, really, had I not gotten a few calls from my mom...
Remember how I mentioned in the past that knitting calms me? It's much better than chamomile tea. How many scarves have gotten me through this last year??? Well...
This would be why my arm is taking forever to get back to normal. Yes, it's a hat that I'm knitting, flat. Fingering weight. Mindless. 144 stitches of knitting and purling, the big woo hoo was the folded over hem. It'll be Andy's emergency hat for when the other I made falls into the trashcan/on the floor/is too icky to wear, again.
It's just been such a roller-coaster ride for my emotions and feelings of utter helplessness. (I am such my father's daughter...like the feet weren't clue enough?!?) My godmother has been in the hospital for almost a month now...and can I just tell you that the acronym I hate the most right now is I.C.U.
So, yeah...bugger my arm...well, no, more like thank god for 800 mg ibuprophen at the end of the day... Hello universe? I really did mean it when I said I didn't mind my life being boring!