Crashing! And is that smoke I smell?

On Monday, feeling feverish and snotty, I called in sick to work. I don't remember the last time a virus has actually knocked me on my ass (thank you, vitamin D) but there it was.

I returned to my office and realized that all this time I had been just one day removed from complete chaos. The delicate balance, the bargaining and trading of one deadline for another, it had all been upended by one day at home.

There is too much work to accomplish in the hours I have every day that are free of meetings. And every meeting generates more work. I'm in time debt, speeding toward bankruptcy, with no way out.

At that realization, I was overcome by a state of complete mental paralysis.

I closed my door and spent four minutes indulging in an episode of panic. I know it was four minutes because I looked at the clock. Because it felt like four hours.

I remain hopelessly optimistic

I'm starting to feel like the program I use to balance my accounts is judging me.

When I enter receipts at the end of the week, it's comparing every amount to the routine expenses I've set up in my budget.

When I enter a $36 trip to the grocery store, a little window pops up.

Is this your scheduled $150 weekly grocery expense? It dutifully asks.

Um... No, I click in answer. The little window closes, and I continue entering receipts.

I enter a mid-week $42 trip.

Is THIS your scheduled $150 weekly grocery expense?

It was just mouthwash and toilet paper! And things like coffee creamer and green beans. Okay, and the Oreos. But what was I supposed to do, not have any toilet paper until the end of the week?

No, I click.

Hhhhhhhh, says the window as it closes.

Each time I enter a grocery receipt, the window pops up again. Is this your scheduled expense? How about this one? This one?

Finally, I come to the budgeted expense. A $191.64 total, and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself that it was under $200.

Yes! I click in answer to the anticipated question. This is it. My scheduled expense!

Another window pops up. Would you like to change your budgeted amount to $191.64? And you should know that I'm only asking because I've observed that you are an impulse-purchasing spendthrift who can't be bothered with sticking to a simple weekly budget.

Of course not, I click.

The program shakes it head silently in grim disapproval.

Won't be the last time, I'm sure

The Easter bunny brought Gert (who loves all things Shiny) several bottles of glittery nail polish and some nail stickers.

Gert gave me a very excellent manicure last night, with silver glitter polish and a blue dragonfly on my right thumbnail.

Gert then gave herself the gold glitter treatment, blowing on each nail to dry her polish. She selected two matching pink butterfly stickers and affixed one butterfly to each of her middle fingers.

She held her hands out with a look of critical admiration, then beamed at me, looking for compliments.

"Fantastic!" I told her. "Show Daddy."

"Hey, Daddy!" Gert called, cheerfully extending both middle fingers to her father.

Here, take my sweater...

P3200003
Originally uploaded by squeakyweasels.


Happy Sweater Day from Matilda, Gertude, and a random neighbor kid!

I highly recommend that you celebrate today by wearing your favorite sweater, remembering the lessons in kindness, joy, courage, and curiosity that Mr. Rogers taught you and your kids, and listening to "The Way That I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson:

Potential Break-Up Blog

I don't ever seem to have time for you. And you're lonely. You feel like the last priority on my list. I get that. I know you're reading other blogs, and I don't blame you. I want you to be happy. I guess the kindest thing to do would be to walk away. But I keep telling myself this is just a temporary thing. Things will calm down and the job will stop being crazy so maybe we can both go back to the way it was. This blog can be good again! I still believe I can make you want to read me. But I know that's just a fantasy. Deep down I know you can't make someone read you. It's not you, it's me. I just can't let go.

This post started out funny, but I think I creeped myself out a little. Now I don't want to look in the mirror because I'm probably watching me.

The weasels are free! (watch your feet)

Since April of last year, the Adopt a Weasel event has generated a respectable number of donations for the MS Foundation from both pattern sales and weasels. If you are among those nice people who contributed, THANK YOU! I really, really do appreciate your generosity.

Now I feel like it's time to set the weasels free.

If you look over to the right under the Free Patterns section, you'll see a link to the PDF for the baby weasel pattern and his larger cousin, the beanie weasel. Both are available through the cool, new Ravelry pattern store, which I hope you can access even if you're not in Ravelry yet. (If you're not, and you can't, just drop me a note in the comments and I'll gladly send you the patterns you need.)

P.S. Update on the TMJ issue... I have dislocated cartilage in one of my jaw joints. So no surgery needed (yay!) but if I ever want to chew food again I need to splint it with a mouthguard that is inexplicably not covered by insurance. Thanks for hanging with me through the drama, and now I promise to stop talking about it. Let's all knit weasels instead!

Sorry, but this is the truth.

Every Valentine's day I'm reminded of how lucky I am.

I'm just ridiculously in love with my husband. That's all.

Plus, tonight we're taking the kids out for heart-shaped pizza at our favorite pizza place. Because our kids are awesome little people and we kind of love them a lot, too.