...because I need to eat breakfast and get ready for work and call a store manager about a job. I'm particularly putting this last part off, because if I get this job, I will feel bad about putting in my notice and leaving my current job. However, I won't feel too terrible about it, all things considered. I like my co-workers, but I feel like nobody listens to me. Also, Jim's just been hired at a different store, making more money than I. Now, I have way more qualifications for this job. Jim is talented and smart and a good employee, but he doesn't have the experience or the skills that I do--I've been in the industry longer. So, yeah. I don't feel too terrible that I may leave.
All of my wool products are in the freezer, because I may, perhaps, just slightly, have panicked. See, I saw two (not just one, two!) moths in my house, in the space of a week. I'm not an entomologist, so my tiny brain sees moths and thinks "oh, no, they're eating my yarn!". Thus, my unbeliever roommates are a bit miffed at the plastic bags of yarn in the freezer. They'll be really miffed when I also microwave it all. I figure that I can't replace most of that yarn, so I'm not really over-reacting. It's better to be safe than yarnless.
In the interest of Jim not being publicly flogged or beaten or shot (though, those are all good options), Mom is mailing me a copy of the Conwy pattern. Now I just have to try to figure out where in the pattern I left off. Ah, this should be fun. Get ready for some more ranting and obscenities, I may just have to pull the whole thing back out again.
I have a plan to knit each of the unbelievers something (probably socks, though that could be difficult for Mike, he has big feet!) in an attempt to make them converts. I may even be able to teach Colleen the joys of knitting, she shows some very promising signs. She can tell the difference between natural fibers and acrylics, and she also fondles yarn and talks longingly about how soft it is. Ahhh, yes. Soon she will be one of us.
The painting in the bedroom is almost done. It's taking a while because we couldn't really move any of the big furniture out, and so just crammed it all in the middle of the room. It's a good thing neither of us is very large, we'd never have been able to fit. And to clarify things for the Aussie contingent--most places, at least around here, will let you paint your rooms. This depends on the landlord, but even the very strict ones usually allow it as long as the house is restored to "neutral" colors when your lease is up. Thankfully, our landlady probably won't even ask us to paint the house back when we move. She's been absolutely amazing and incredibly attentive to us.
Okay, enough distracting myself. This is already rather longer than it was meant to be. Time to go face the music and make my phone call. Wish me luck!