Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I Don’t Want to Talk About It

Here are a few things I really don't want to talk about.

The election. I am all primary-ed out. I have severe voter fatigue. Whenever I hear either of the democratic candidates names, my nose starts to bleed.

Perimenopause. Yes, I am having my period. It's been 86 days since my last one. I was up half the night, gnawing on ibuprofen and applying heat to my very unhappy uterus.

The book fair. Today I attend the book fair with The Kid's class. I'll rejoice at his enthusiasm as we pick out some summer reading material and my heart will break for the kids who will have no money to buy books. The ones whose parents couldn't send money, or forgot, or (gasp) don't think books are important.

Sleep. The fact that The Kid could not get to sleep last night and tossed and turned until more than an hour past his bedtime, so he will be exhausted and cranky when he gets home and we have to rush to get homework done and get to karate (which we skipped last week because it was just too much).

Instead, look. I've been knitting on my sock and it's wobbly and uneven but I believe it will, in fact, one day be a sock.


  1. Honey, I am so sorry! I understand from the book fair to the uterus. My period? It just comes and goes and comes and goes with no means or method, whenever it darn well pleases. Age.

  2. It's going to be a beautiful sock, Laura--you are wise to focus on it. You can't do anything about the other stuff, but you can knit that beautiful sock.