I've resorted to a classic maritime morale enhancer lately: flogging. Basically I've been torturing myself to get things done that I should do. That I should have done. And that I normally would have no problem doing. My techniques are not violent, but they've been cruel. I've been denying myself the right to knit things I like and doing fun things like blogging. It's probably not the best way of dealing with this, but I don't feel like I'd do anything productive if I didn't stick to a regimen every day.
Looking around, I have been doing quite a bit. I've make quite a bit of progress on that lousy hateful paper. I've started the dying yarn for the festival that's in a month. I'm keeping the house clean and the husband fed. I even knit an entire pair of socks in the last week. Can't show you those yet, they're a gift.
But I've been in a funk and am not really enjoying what I'm doing. It's a sort of bored restless funk. Ugh.
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