...because otherwise, I'm afraid I'm going to be responsible for giving people eye strain. Well, that, and I'm boring.
Not much to report on here, I'm just getting home from work. I would rather have stayed home and cleaned, at least that gives one some satisfaction. But then, I'd rather be stuck doing those horrid story problems (if farmer brown has six chickens on train a which is traveling from point r at a speed of x, and farmer green has thirty-nine gorillas traveling on train c which leaves destination w at a speed of mach 1, when will they collide? at what time will farmers brown and green be notified of the collision? extra credit: don't show any work) instead of going into work.
I'm beginning to think I hate my job not just because it's retail, but because it's retail auto parts. Don't get me wrong, I love cars. I like to work on them and get my hands dirty and fix things. I'm pretty good at it, too. But what I'm really tired of are the people. A typical customer looks at me and says, "oh! A girl! In an auto parts store! Imagine that!" or something along those lines. I absolutely loved training one of my younger co-workers, customers used to walk right past me to ask him questions, which he would then turn to me and repeat, word for word. I would then answer him, and he would repeat my answer to the customer. Yeah. Sexism sucks. But you don't wanna hear me rant about that, this would be another really long one.
Progress on my scarves is continuing, slowly (because i am but a lowly knitting n00b) but surely. I have about two and a half, maybe three feet of what I privately think of as The Ugly Scarf, which is publicly known as Jim's scarf. It's made of camouflage-colored acrylic yarn. It's ugly. But it'll make him happy and stand up to dirt, so it's all good. My cousin's scarf is coming along less quickly, but it can be much shorter, so it should be finished soon, I hope. Mom generously donated yarn for the socks I'm going to be embarking on, so it looks like all I have to do is sign up for the stricke-along.
So much for short, eh? I always did love to talk...