rough re-entry into civilian life
Day one of life After Knitting. I'm getting nervous and restless. I'm frustrated more easily. I'm hungry (which could be due to a delayed schedule that's kicked back my lunch forty-five minutes). I'm chewing my nails and fingers. But I'm trying. I need to give this a decent try. Maybe I've never gotten over being an apologist for the regime, and even though la reine est mort, vive la reigne.
Last night Blake asked me, "are you allowed to knit at home?" When I told him I was, he asked if "she could find out." God, I hope not. Because I'm going to need to catch up sometime.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*