Five Weeks

Okay, so it’s been over five weeks since I last made a blog post, and almost three weeks since I’ve knit a stitch. This sort of behavior is not acceptable! Of course, it’s not like I came without a large amount of excuses regarding my lax blogging and even more lax knitting. 

For starters, there was packing. I didn’t really start doing that till a few days before I left, mostly because that idea of dragging out suitcases and finding boxes proved to be far to much for me to handle in my ragged mental state. I did forget a great many things, like my sanity and hangers. (I forgot hangers last year too. I sense a theme.) So I just piled my clothes in the bottom of the closet. Live with it. 

Then I’ve got the big one, Classes. Boy, there really is a big difference between Freshman year and Sophmore year. Namely, you loose that two week grace period. Last year they sort of didn’t really make you do anything when you first came back. You had time to order pizza and have great sex and then stay up till three in the morning talking with some people you just met who seem like they’re really awesome. It was the time of long lunches, even longer dinners, and classes were really just your justification for this. Now that’s all gone. I have written two papers already. Learned more German that I thought I could (only those nutty Germans would find a way to have three genders).I’ve read three books. Pretty much everything. I’ve done it all. 

Except knit. Do you remember that coat? That coat. The one that only needs about a dozen ends to be wove in before it’s finished. The same coat that will finish off the 28 month Zimmerman project? (Lets put that 28 month into perspective, there are walking and talking children who are younger than this.) Part of me is waiting for the right time to finish it. Not in a rush between classes, but quietly, with a cup of tea, the way that I started this project. 

But part of me just wants to grow a pair and do it already. So what if I don’t finish this the way that I finish it? I’m not that same person (thankfully, I think). I’ve grown, changed since then. In some ways good, in some ways bad. I’ve realized the degree of which I’m not well. I also have lost a lot of my compulsive tics. (Not all though.) I’ve relaxed in some ways, sped up in others. Developed a love for Jack Kerouac. Developed love in general. I’ve seen some scary parts of the underbelly of humanity, but I’ve seen the best that it has to offer. I’ve needed crutches, been the crutch, stood up for myself, learned when to shut my mouth. I’ve learned that you have to put on your own life jacket before anyone else’s. I’ve become someone that I like at times, and that’s really good. 

And maybe the new me would just grow a pair and finish it off already. Well, it has to happen soon. I didn’t bring another coat, that was my plan. So I have to do it before it gets really cold out.