i refuse to make amends
My vaague stomach cramps have gone away. Having a wussy illness sucks: you're not well enough to do anything but not sick enough to get any sympathy. I spent a day sleeping and keeping Blake away from my belly (he knows it bugs me, the devil) and a day gingerly trying food. At least we can exorcise the spectre of pregnancy, which would be awkwardly timed at best.
My health has cleared up just in time for my first knitting-free staff meeting. Having just finished Clarissa Dickson Wright's autobiography with all the AA content, I'm starting to wonder if She Who Must Be Obeyed woulf like me to admit that my knitting is out of control and I need to give myself to a higher power. One that isn't Elizabeth Zimmerman, one assumes.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*