Crying Because I Want To

I started an easy project - a scarf using the the Double Bump Scarf pattern.  I've made several facecloths from this pattern, meaning to give them as a gift but they still sit on my kitchen table.  I took a knitting class several months ago and ended up with a skein of this light blue yarn.  I figured I could do a scarf and maybe have enough left over for a matching hat.  We'll see.  In the meantime, here's the little bit of progress on the scarf.

The beginning of a scarf

My afghan is  getting heavier on the needles and now drapes over my legs while I'm on the couch, knitting. I'm not sure how much more I'm going to knit but the pattern it's based on recommends at least 57 inches of the pattern, which does not include a two-inch bottom and top border.  I imagine that I will keep going until I use up all the yarn I bought for this project.  Mr. Grumpbump hates it when I have random left over yarn.

Retro Afghan

I thought about carrying around a little notebook with me so I could jot down ideas for this blog.  I think that most of my entries tend to be very one-sided and uninteresting.  In order to capture these brilliant ideas as soon as they pop into my head, I now carry around a small green notebook.  And it remains empty.  All of my ideas come to me as I drive.  I believe it would be a bad idea to suddenly whip out my green notebook at that time.  Notice I did not say they were good ideas.

For example, today I was thinking about how much hatred I have in my heart.  Or maybe I just feel like life is unfair and it makes me angry.  Now, as I start to type what I was thinking, I realize that the words on the page only make me sound bitter and pathetic.  It is a habit of mine to look at houses as I drive by and imagine how the people living inside can afford such luxury.   What is it that they are doing that I am not?  I then see that my hatred is just jealousy and it makes me feel uglier than all my excess weight ever does.  It's just a game I play with myself.

I then skipped around until I made a connection to explain my jealousy.  I was raised Catholic and attended parochial school until the 9th grade.  This means I went to mass every Friday and Sunday for at least 8 years, from age 5 to 14.  On top of that, every year we had a religious education class.  All the teachings were drilled into me over and over until it was no longer a choice but a part of me.  I believed with all my heart that if I lived my life as a good Christian that I would be rewarded by a good life.  So, I was basically a good person, with the exception of petty childish things, I earned good grades in school, I tried my best to be respectful of all adults, I did what I was told.  And then I waited.  Waited for this good life to come to me.  By the time I realized that the good life was not going to come to me, that I had to pursue it, I ended up with a man who took complete advantage of me.  Convincing me that being with him was the good life, when it was the exact opposite of good.  It was completely wrong.  I gave up that lifestyle and just tried to live a decent life.  Yet, I am still behind and the morally corrupt, rotten people are miles ahead of me.  I have no explanation for this imbalance and its very existence pisses me off.  That's the convoluted reason I envy those who have so much more than me.

I have to say that there are people I love who are experiencing things so much worse than me not having a house, or another kitten, or a baby or even a respectable career and money.  I specifically am not including their pain in this because it's not my place to discuss their private matters.  However, I am in no way equating the unfairness I feel with what they are going through and I would never discuss this with them for that same reason.  I would gladly accept more pain and suffering, with the rule of keeping my pity party strictly to myself, to alleviate all their problems from their life.

I Can't Help Myself

Mr. Grumpbump and I looked at another house today.  While I liked it, and the price was certainly right, our chances of actually getting it are slim.  There are already three other offers on the table for the house.  The house does not have a pool, but it does have a big backyard and an enclosed Florida room.  We are going to add our offer to the mix.

After we did our walk-through for the house, we drove by the home we still have under short sale contract.  The pool is a lovely shade of Mountain Dew-green and there are tadpoles now living in it.  This house is still the one we want but as the days tick away, we are less and less assured that it will ever be sold.  I wrote a letter to the owners of the house and appealed to them on a personal level.  I asked them to allow us to buy their house and take care of it properly.  I know they don't make the final decision (their bank does) but I have been told that they are not submitting the paperwork necessary to qualify for the short sale.  I can't stand the thought of someone else getting this house or having it just sit empty and deteriorating while the bank forecloses on it.

It's storming outside right now and Delilah is begging to go out.  In fact, she's yelling at me, but I will not give in.  So, she started taken to stalking Miss Macy.  I think she's going stir-crazy being inside, so I tried to work out some of her energy by playing with her.

Miss Macy is such a laid back cat and sometimes that means she does not get the attention she deserves.  Instead, Delilah gets it for being a such a bitchy cat.  While I was engaging Miss Delilah, Macy was sitting on the couch, watching us.  I did play with Macy but she was not really interested.  Macy is more interested in observing and eating.  

Macy watching the action

Lost

I've been avoiding spending any money or making any big changes because I was sure that at any moment we would hear about our house.  Now, it seems inevitable that we will not get this house.  So, all of this waiting means we've gone four months without any real fun.  Now we have to plan to move to another apartment. I can't get another cat, even if I wanted one, because I'm back to being controlled by what my landlord would allow, instead of being a homeowner and making my own decisions.  My anger over this situation is directed at the people who contracted to sell me their house, only to break the terms by removing items when they moved out (the ceiling fans, window treatments and bathroom mirrors) and by refusing to make any progress with their short sale (as far as I know they haven't even submitted the correct paperwork).  Also, my realtor has been downright ineffectual about this.  I don't understand why I can't get a straight answer about the status of the short sale and why does she take the listing agent's vague answers as fact?  Seriously.  I don't get anyway with that wishy-washy stuff at work, and why should she?    Mr. Grumpbump and I would be so appreciative to get this house and we would take good care of it, instead of it just sitting empty and abandoned.  

Besides Mr. Grumpbump and the cats, the only thing making me happy and/or keeping me relaxed is my knitting.  I'm still working on the ripple afghan and I'm not sure if I will keep it when it is completed or if I will gift it.  I think the colors are too odd for me to gift it (a friend called it "retro" which I believe is code for "ugly"). I think I will take a break from it once it's done and perhaps start a pair of socks.  Or maybe I can have two projects at once, although I do find this to be a problem when knitting socks because they require me to be more organized.  This ripple pattern is so easy; I've already memorized it and I don't keep track of anything other than counting rows on the actual project.

I love this pattern

Mr. Grumpbump has to apply with a new company because this new company won the contract for the place he works.  We will know by July if they will keep him on as an employee.  Just another thing in our lives that we have to worry about.  We are feeling a bit beat down lately.  Things are tense because of our living situation, the uncertainty of Mr. G's job, and our inability to get on the same schedule.  Mr. G. and I never see each in a meaningful way.  He's either sleeping or I'm at work.  We really need an escape to be together, even for just a few days, to reconnect and feel better about our life.