Weekend
You know, I was going to write an update about this past weekend:
"This past weekend, I stayed home. I got a fair amount done: finished weaving the linen rag rug for under the treadles of the loom (...)
There was a thing that happened. J and S came over for a visit, to see where I lived now and see the kitties. I hadn't seen them in a while and it was nice to sit and chat. At some point, for some weird reason, I started thinking about the house as *my* house. My own. Not W's. And I thought, oh, this is what it'll be like when I actually own a house. Planning changes and actually being able to carry them out. Inviting people over and not worrying about nosy/noisy neighbours, not enough seating for guests, actually having a space of my very own. The feeling left again, but it was there for a while, and it pretty much smacked me in the face. Suddenly, this all seemed/seems worth it."
Then yesterday morning, I wrote this:
"I got some bad news this morning: W has cancer. I had thought he might. There were...bathroom issues that were pretty noticeable when he was at the house, and when I asked my dad, he mentioned something about hemorrhoids. I told him that this was beyond that, way beyond it. W hates going to the doctor, so we suspect that his wife, S, bullied him into it. The word came last night and my dad told me this morning: cancer. Which is kind of what I suspected. There was likely a PET scan done, but the results aren't in yet, so no word on whether or not there's cancer elsewhere in his body. I'm not supposed to say anything to anyone because W is a very private person, so if any of you who know me in person are reading this, please keep it to yourself. Just in case. "
Then last night, I had nightmares all night. They revolved around me telling my dad that I was dying, about to die and it was okay, and I hugged him, and told him I loved him and it was totally okay but it was going to happen soon; then, somehow, I was okay and my dad had a week to live; my dad told me W had three weeks to live. And of course, my brain just kept going over and over and over it. I woke up loads, fell back asleep right back into a nightmare.
Meanwhile, the cats were chasing a mouse all over the first floor, which also woke me up. (The mouse got away, but I'm sure they'll get it eventually.)
So, I'm fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally. I did not want to come to work. I want to get rid of the cats as soon as possible. I want to find a different job - I'm my own department, and that department has become "secretary". I'm good at it, but I feel like I'm dumb and stupid and will never ever get ahead, and I imagine what it would be like to really be immersed in a job that I absolutely love and am engaged in everyday. Oh, I like my job, and my boss is truly awesome, but sooner or later, I'm going to get very bored with my job (probably sooner) and then it's just a matter of time before I hate it. And so while we were having a meeting today (about things I do not understand in the slightest), I was trying to imagine what kind of job I could do. But I have no marketable skills. Not even project management. Just a silly title.
I started looking at houses for sale online again. OMG is it depressing. Truly. I can only afford a house that's a 30 minute drive that will never ever let me recover any sweat equity if I sell it. Ever. I don't want to live 30 minutes away. I don't want much: a decent house, which can be small, in a bit of land I can plant an apple tree on, a few roses and grow some veggies, all within a mile of town. I don't need a farm. I don't need a huge 2000sq foot house. In the place I love most: Northampton. But I can't have that because the houses are all much more expensive than I could ever afford. Even if I decide to not even have a car. I'd never get the mortgage.
So, I'm sad today.
Last night, I got home and discovered that the deliciously colored yarn I ordered from Knit Picks had arrived. It's so cheap that it's actually less expensive to knit my own than it is to buy a sweater! This one comes to just under $40. I ran inside, ripped open the package and was delighted in the colors. The sweater yarn is perfect and looks exactly like it did on the monitor at work. I had ordered four other single skeins in different colors just to see what the colors were - I can knit mitts or a hat or cat toys or something out of them later - and they're all perfect. Perfect red, green, and grey. I'm so happy with this yarn! I swatched again this morning having not attained the correct gauge last night, and got it perfectly with my favourite set of circular needles. So, tonight, I'll cast on. Provided I get home in time.
Must stop by Web's first to return the ski shuttle I borrowed from M who works there. It was very kind of her to lend me one! I think I"ll buy one of my own next month - I'll save up for it in the meantime.
Right. That means I have to leave now.
I really hope I"m happier tomorrow. Today was awful. Really truly awful. I feel almost as though I'm slipping into depression again.
I really hope W's cancer is curable. I can't deal with all these friends with cancer.
"This past weekend, I stayed home. I got a fair amount done: finished weaving the linen rag rug for under the treadles of the loom (...)
There was a thing that happened. J and S came over for a visit, to see where I lived now and see the kitties. I hadn't seen them in a while and it was nice to sit and chat. At some point, for some weird reason, I started thinking about the house as *my* house. My own. Not W's. And I thought, oh, this is what it'll be like when I actually own a house. Planning changes and actually being able to carry them out. Inviting people over and not worrying about nosy/noisy neighbours, not enough seating for guests, actually having a space of my very own. The feeling left again, but it was there for a while, and it pretty much smacked me in the face. Suddenly, this all seemed/seems worth it."
Then yesterday morning, I wrote this:
"I got some bad news this morning: W has cancer. I had thought he might. There were...bathroom issues that were pretty noticeable when he was at the house, and when I asked my dad, he mentioned something about hemorrhoids. I told him that this was beyond that, way beyond it. W hates going to the doctor, so we suspect that his wife, S, bullied him into it. The word came last night and my dad told me this morning: cancer. Which is kind of what I suspected. There was likely a PET scan done, but the results aren't in yet, so no word on whether or not there's cancer elsewhere in his body. I'm not supposed to say anything to anyone because W is a very private person, so if any of you who know me in person are reading this, please keep it to yourself. Just in case. "
Then last night, I had nightmares all night. They revolved around me telling my dad that I was dying, about to die and it was okay, and I hugged him, and told him I loved him and it was totally okay but it was going to happen soon; then, somehow, I was okay and my dad had a week to live; my dad told me W had three weeks to live. And of course, my brain just kept going over and over and over it. I woke up loads, fell back asleep right back into a nightmare.
Meanwhile, the cats were chasing a mouse all over the first floor, which also woke me up. (The mouse got away, but I'm sure they'll get it eventually.)
So, I'm fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally. I did not want to come to work. I want to get rid of the cats as soon as possible. I want to find a different job - I'm my own department, and that department has become "secretary". I'm good at it, but I feel like I'm dumb and stupid and will never ever get ahead, and I imagine what it would be like to really be immersed in a job that I absolutely love and am engaged in everyday. Oh, I like my job, and my boss is truly awesome, but sooner or later, I'm going to get very bored with my job (probably sooner) and then it's just a matter of time before I hate it. And so while we were having a meeting today (about things I do not understand in the slightest), I was trying to imagine what kind of job I could do. But I have no marketable skills. Not even project management. Just a silly title.
I started looking at houses for sale online again. OMG is it depressing. Truly. I can only afford a house that's a 30 minute drive that will never ever let me recover any sweat equity if I sell it. Ever. I don't want to live 30 minutes away. I don't want much: a decent house, which can be small, in a bit of land I can plant an apple tree on, a few roses and grow some veggies, all within a mile of town. I don't need a farm. I don't need a huge 2000sq foot house. In the place I love most: Northampton. But I can't have that because the houses are all much more expensive than I could ever afford. Even if I decide to not even have a car. I'd never get the mortgage.
So, I'm sad today.
Last night, I got home and discovered that the deliciously colored yarn I ordered from Knit Picks had arrived. It's so cheap that it's actually less expensive to knit my own than it is to buy a sweater! This one comes to just under $40. I ran inside, ripped open the package and was delighted in the colors. The sweater yarn is perfect and looks exactly like it did on the monitor at work. I had ordered four other single skeins in different colors just to see what the colors were - I can knit mitts or a hat or cat toys or something out of them later - and they're all perfect. Perfect red, green, and grey. I'm so happy with this yarn! I swatched again this morning having not attained the correct gauge last night, and got it perfectly with my favourite set of circular needles. So, tonight, I'll cast on. Provided I get home in time.
Must stop by Web's first to return the ski shuttle I borrowed from M who works there. It was very kind of her to lend me one! I think I"ll buy one of my own next month - I'll save up for it in the meantime.
Right. That means I have to leave now.
I really hope I"m happier tomorrow. Today was awful. Really truly awful. I feel almost as though I'm slipping into depression again.
I really hope W's cancer is curable. I can't deal with all these friends with cancer.