Sofa, So Good!!

Why is it that, when you are feeling under the weather, the couch seems like the place to sleep? I know that some people do it to spare their partners the sound of them snuffling and hacking in the dark of night or to keep them safe from harmful germs 'n such. But, I am unencumbered by domestic partnerships of any kind so that couldn't be the reason.

Some people don't want to sully their nice, fresh sheets with all their gooey nasal drippage. I suppose that makes some sort of sense, but I can't see the logic in letting the sneezes fly all over the sofa. And besides, my housekeeping isn't exactly up to four star standards. Sure, I give the sheets a change now and again. But, I'm not all compulsive about it...or given to doing it on what most people would consider a regular schedule.

A couple of years ago, during the Great Monkey Pox Event, I had to sleep on the couch because the bed was too big. I was in some pain (read here: a great deal of excruciating pain that was something of a surprise because no one ever told me that pneumonia hurt...) and the couch was the only sleeping surface that I could be certain of rolling off successfully should I need to take some medicine or get a Popsicle. But, I don't have Monkey Pox right now. I have my Fall Cold. There's no pain involved save that which anyone who has to be around me for more than five minutes these days feels in their neck.

I'll admit that I am not exactly delightful company at the moment. I mean, honestly! You could cut off my left leg with a rusty butter knife and I'd make less of a fuss than I do over a simple cold. I just hate having a cold!!! You guys are pretty darned decent to come by for a read. Thanks for that...dunno what I'd do without ya!

I honestly can't think of a single reason why having the Fall Cold should result in my having to sleep on the couch like a genuinely sick person. But, that is what I seemed to think was right and appropriate last night. This was cause for some confusion on the part of my feline roommates as they weren't sure if it was bedtime or just naptime. We all somehow found a way to adjust, though. And this was clearly a good choice for me. With the exception of a brief period of activity during the wee hours of the morning, I didn't see the light of day until 9:30 a.m. This is unheard of here at The Sheepish House Of Convalescence. I'm not normally one to lie about in the morning. I guess sofa-sleeping just has that sort of effect on a girl. Either way, I suppose it did me some good to sleep so soundly. That, combined with an ungodly amount of cold medications, has made for a pretty good day. Plus, I still have that cool raspy voice that started up yesterday so I sound kind of like a jazz singer. A tone deaf jazz singer, I'll grant you. But it's still kind of cool.

With a full load of NyQuil coursing through my system, it seemed like just the time to revisit that lace project that was hurled across the room a week ago, called a number of vile names, stomped on a bit then consigned to the depths of the knitting basket until it could count to five correctly. Why not? Sober knitting was only bringing me heartbreak. It was rather freeing, actually. If I had an extra stitch left over when I reached the garter stitch border, I just decreased by one. If I was short a stitch, I increased. Over-the-counter-cold medications are quite handy when one needs to sink into the depths of Knitting Denial.

That harsh sound you just heard, by the way, was the collective gasping of the Real Knitters as they process this piece of information. I'm not even going to tell them that I said out loud for all the world to hear: ...and I'm not using a lifeline either, you stupid knitting. What do you think of that, you misbehaving pile of string???

Being off by one or two stitches sort of matters in lace patterns, I should think. This is not the way one should be going about creating a piece of filmy, fluttery beauty. But, I've reached the point in the process where my understanding of this fact is overwhelmed by my need to see this project move forward. It will have boo-boos. I will learn to live with them. I just cannot go on knitting the same row over and over with no real ground gained. It's a coping strategy.

Three weeks worth of knitting. And tinking. And outright ripping. Then more knitting...

Once I've gotten the first repeat under my belt, I'm hoping that things go more smoothly. And yes, I will put in a lifeline before I go too much further. I promise. The golden glow of the cold medicine has to wear off at some point and the true horror of what I have gone and done will sink in. I'll probably start putting in lifelines every other row, just to be safe and all.

In the meantime, though, I fully intend to enjoy the haze brought about by sofa sleeping and NyQuil. If you're looking for me, I'm that large, immobile lump with the poorly executed lace who's making snuffly sounds from the couch...

SA