04.07.2003 - 2:33 p.m.

I�m still working on that damn afghan. I�ve noticed that I knit tighter stitches the more tired I am, so if the yarn is squeaking against the needles, it�s a good indication that I should give up and go to bed. I�m still about two square feet behind schedule, having failed to catch up any further over the weekend.

The more I knit, the more I want to write, or draw, or paint, or go kayaking instead. This is the first time in as long as I can remember that I�ve stuck with one project for so long. Ten and a half square feet left, plus all the finishing work.

Also this week, I am supposed to hold conferences with two classes� worth of students. So far three of ten have forgotten their appointment times and stood me up. It will entertain me when they need miracles at the end of the semester and I am too busy to provide them. It will be my fault, of course, because how dare there not be two of me. That�s the funniest part, the way their grades depend on my schedule but not on their following it.

This morning, after I�d pushed the �sleep� button on the alarm but before I realized I�d hit �off� instead, I had one of those dreams, the kind where you randomly bump into every ex you�ve ever had. Some want you back, some hardly remember, some you only see in the distance. It was strange, because I was apparently also appearing in their dreams�some I wanted back, others I hardly remembered, and some only saw me in the distance. The whole dream was very Escher, full of blind passages, staircases, and tessellated floors.

But that was only this morning. For most of the night, I heard knitting needles clacking in my sleep.

-stonebridge

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