Ah-Ha!!!

After a night of guilt (and guilt-induced Wheat Thins eating) over my whole "I'm tired of knitting Christmas gifts and I really only want to knit socks for myself" disclosure, I think I may have hit on a loophole. It's not much, but it's all I've got at this point. If I manage to word it just right and look highly pathetic in the telling, it might just hold water. Maybe...

Here's the thing: my little corner of the state has gone from a balmy sixty degrees to arctic chilliness in a matter of mere days. My classroom has become unbearable. I knew I was cold, but didn't have much of a frame of reference. Today, however, I was able to get out and about during the day and spend a little time in the art room. Upon returning to the classroom, I spent ten minutes or so accusing everyone who had been in the vicinity of having opened a window. My staff assured me that this was not the case; they had been present for my entire absence from the room and knew that all windows were closed and accounted for. Never one to trust blindly, I checked. They were closed and locked. The room is just a meat locker. I'd somehow managed to get used to it during the course of the day. I suspect that I may have permanent nerve damage at this point.

I'm cold...so very cold. I need socks lest I perish before the April school break. There are those who would miss me. The good people at my credit card company, for example. They have made it quite clear how much they look forward to my monthly contact. The nice checkout ladies at the grocery store might also miss my thrice weekly visits and the various dramas that ensue when I am in their establishment.

And I really only just discovered the joys of the handknit sock. I don't have that many stockpiled. Each night upon finishing the dreaded workout, I change into my flannel jammies and put on these babies:

Yet another sock brought to you courtesy of the Most Generous April Foundation, bringing sock yarn to desperate Sheep since July '06.

I wish I could tell you that I wash them in between each wearing. I do not. My feet are cold and there is simply not time for petty things like hygiene when frostbite is on the line. These will fast become a bio hazard. What will happen to the Big, Fluffy Kitty if noxious fumes are emanating from my foot warmers?

Like I said...I need socks. I really must knit socks. It is imperative that I knit socks. It is a matter of life and death...

What do you think? I know it doesn't look like much in print. You have to picture a sad little Sheepie, trembling from the chill and bleating pathetically while her hooves fall off from frostbite. You heard me: hooves. falling. off.

I'm spending this evening practicing my shivering. And whimpering.

SA