Insert the sound of my head thumping into my desk here

Jobs are difficult. You have one that you hate, where your boss makes you do stupid pointless things all the time and you're always really stressed out and busy, and you complain. You have one that you hate, where you barely do anything but the things you have to do are spaced out at exactly the right interval to provide maximum stress and irritation, and you complain.

Right now, I have a job. I don't hate it, but I don't love it either. I worry that I'm not doing something right because I seem to accomplish most of what I need to do in my days in about an hour, and think that can't be right. I spend whole days reading knitting blogs, or looking at cute puppies, but rarely doing anything of substance.

I'd love to have a job that I enjoyed, that engaged me, and where I felt like I was making a difference. The older I get, the more I feel like that's some sort of pipe-dream that will never happen.

"So. How does that make you feel, Bobby?"

I got a rather frantic-sounding call from a friend yesterday asking if Matt and I wanted to be paid about £75 (YES!) to be involved in 3 hours of market research today (hmm, not so much.). So we took the day off (nothing like being paid for two things at the same time) and wandered down to Leicester Square where we were meeting the market research people.

Wow, is that a load of bollocks. It seemed to involve them asking us lots of leading questions and then saying 'So, what you're really saying is...' to get what we actually said to go along with what they wanted it to say.

However...three hours = £75 and I can't really argue with that logic. But market research? Not for me, baby.

Sockarama

Knitting has slowly been taking over my life the last few months. I'm working on a pair of socks (and having to tell myself that no, I can't just go and buy more needles, because that would let me have more socks on the go) as well as a mystery project, henceforth to be refered to as The Project That Will Not Be Named.

(The reason it will not be named is that it's a Christmas gift for someone - and yes, it will probably take me until then to finish it.)

But it's seriously taking over my life. I've been reading the same book for over three weeks now. Yes, the same one. No, I'm not re-reading it for the 7th time. Be afraid.

Sock monsters

I finished my first pair of socks! I'm particularly excited, as I actually knit three...due to stupid mistakes on my part during the knitting of the first sock. But they're done. And I'm excited. I've been lifting up my jeans to stare at them all day today.

So that's my second knitting project done then. Yay! I've started a new pair of socks, this time with a leaf motif which kicked my ass for a while last night. I've become wise to their tricksy ways now, however, and they're falling into line.

New things

The problem with working all day at a job that isn't really something that you do for any other reason than to pay the bills is that when you get home all you really want to do is stare pointlessly into space. Matt and I have recently started watching several different series through our lovefilm addiction, and I can finally agree that yes, Scrubs is as funny as people say it is. And for those who missed out, Deadwood kicks ass.

As the title of the post is new things (which is all my layout-addled brain could come up with on short notice)...

New thing one: I finished a sock! Or rather, I finished knitting a sock. The clever among you may think, 'Hey! She mentioned this sock melarky before! This means she's got two socks!'. Not so much. The first sock was, sadly, too ugly to exist in this world. So it was ripped out, and begun again. This time, I have one beautiful lovely sock with a second on the way.

New thing two: I've been listening to kisw and heard a song I liked (Better than Me) by a band that turned out to be called Hinder. I now have their Extreme Behaviour cd. They remind me of Audioslave.

And that's what's new. Ah, the excitement of my life. I leave you with spaniels.

Sam the Insane

My alien loves me

After yet another endless wait (although this time I came prepared. Two books, just in case I finished the one I was on, a bottle of water, and a snack. Going to the doctor's for an appointment is similar to going hiking for the day.), I finally got the test results back for the alien that was in my neck.

Really, it loved me. It just wanted to be close to me, and didn't have any intention of hurting me at all, which I wish it had mentioned when it moved in. There would have been alot less fighting, and I would have felt better about lending it the space.

Thanks for all your support!