the drugs like me

I’m sitting here drugged up to the proverbial eyeballs on sudafed. I had to purchase more today because now dfkan has caught my cold. That is three times within a week that I have written my name in a little pseudoephedrine book – I expect a visit from the police shortly enquiring about my meth lab.

As a consequence of all this speedery, I am very, very, very focussed – but not on anything I should be focussed on: like making 6 wee pom-poms for the fringe of Bess’ duckies scarf (and, just quietly, there is a reason acrylic yarn is 6 100g balls for $10 at go-lo).

But no, I decide to use the rest of the gods-awful acrylic to crochet a largeish granny square (so that we might have a blankie to take to the footy etc), but not just a simple granny square, I decide that it has to be off-centre like the squares on the fab-o rug on the loungeroom floor, but I am not sure if I like the result, but keep crocheting just in case it gets better, but it is all crooked, like it needs to be blocked, but I don’t even know if you can block $1.67-a-ball-acrylic.

And I really think that I should stop and go to bed and lie there quietly with my eyes open very wide, before I start taking many, many photographs of my crochet and the rug to illustrate this post.

Goodnight (I expect I’ll be back at about 3am when I cannot sleep, taking photos)

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