Lots of stuff. Not a lot of sense. I've been sort of just going throughout the motions lately, and realized today I wanted to write something. I haven't wanted to write, really write, in years. I think I just got busy, and being in "Mommy mode" all the time sucked the creative right out of me. I'm in the plotting and thinking stages now, and maybe nothing will happen beyond that, but it's a good sign. For so long I've felt like I got lost in the choices I made after high school, it's good to get some of that back.

Someday I might tell the story of what I was going to be and compare it to what I've become. I'm very different from what I expected, but I think that's a good thing. I'm stronger than I ever planned, and I've discovered talents I never would have looked for.

Not much knitting going on here, honestly. I think I want to design something, but I have to finish some of the stuff I've started before I even think about a new project. Do you think it's more important to have a finished product, something useful to show for hours of work, or that it's OK to just work on something that makes you happy, regardless of how many things you start and if nothing ever gets completed? I'm still up in the air about this, I'm sure I'd be more fulfilled if I stuck with it and just finished one thing at a time. It's an adult thing to do, and it requires discipline and backbone. It would also require a complete personality transplant. I am, and always have been, a complete and total scatterbrain. I can't even just read one book at a time. Plus different moods require different things. Some days I just can't stand the thought of knitting another sock, and some days the idea of a cabled sweater makes my skin crawl. I think I'm doomed to a future littered with incomplete stuff scattered in my wake and very few warm sweaters.

I think I'd like to knit mittens tonight.