Discombobulated

Sounds like my husband and I are going out to a 70's themed dance party, but actually, it's about my general confusion to be working on a monday and how I keep forgetting tomorrow's Tuesday, not Wednesday, and why Ru Paul's Drag Race was on a night I worked, and why they're playing football. And due to all this I almost forgot my blog entry. I was literally in bed, Nook in hand, and I had this nagging thought that I Was Forgetting Something. I was. I was forgetting this.

And though this is a supremely pointless entry, the point it has is this-I said I would do this every day this month. I mean to do it every day this month. I would of course prefer to post interesting thought provoking content or at minimum pretty pictures of flowers and yarn, but all that is secondary to the point of doing it every single day.

I've mentioned my lack of dedication to projects before. My lack of motivation to practice, to keep at it. I get bored easily. I'm always ready to move on to the next thing. I am so sick and tired of this scarf I'm weaving and of the traveling socks I'm knitting. I am not sick and tired of writing daily blog entries, but if it happens, it happens. I will do it anyway, just like I'll finish that damned endless scarf and those socks that make me want to scream at the thought of another six inches of mistake rib.

Incidentally, my current read is Joseph Anton, by Salman Rushdie. It's an excellent read, all about his exile/life under protection after the fatwa declared by the ayatollah Khomeni after publication of The Satanic Verses. Rushdie is one of my favorite authors and I have bought and given away many many copies of his book Haroun and the Sea of Stories. His account of this time and his determination to survive and write during it is inspirational. Nobody is out to get me, and this is only for 30 days. His was nine years.

Here are some drag queens, for no apparent reason.