Not a good day

Once a week, I run an anti-virus scan. Sometimes, this is a problem. I don't know why, but once in a while, it won't run on the laptop when the desktop downstairs is in use, and sometimes I can't do anything online on the laptop if the scan is running on the desktop. This is a little inconvenient, but I've always been able to deal. But now, I have had to abort six attempts on the laptop over two days. This morning, I got all the way up to 540,000 files before it got stuck. I am convinced that this means there is something horrible on my laptop that is lurking behind the scenes, waiting to steal my data or keep me from playing spider solitaire. I won't feel right until I get it to run properly.

Plus, I paid the bills and balanced the checkbook today. It's a holiday. I'm supposed to be doing something fun or at least restful. But no. I got waist deep into my financial life. It's cold in there, and the bottom is all slimy.

I have an awesome hat. It's green, with multicolored flecks. It has ear flaps, tassels, and a giant pom pom. The only thing it's missing is a noise maker of some sort. But it doesn't fit. I have been meaning to rework it, but have been afraid to undo all that finishing. Then it occurred to me: if I take off the pom pom, I can just unravel it from the top without disturbing the ear flaps or tassels. So I did. I have 117 stitches, and now I have to figure out how to make it smaller. That means looking this hat up in my knitting journal to see what gauge and needle size I had last time, then doing some math. Again with the holiday-I'm-supposed-to-be-having-fun.

Kirby is all depressed and clingy and he's constantly underfoot. My back is sore, so I need to be careful about bending, twisting, and reaching. The thing is, if he's between me and the light switch, I have to stretch and reach to turn off the light, and that hurts. He's also trying to trip me. I'm not sure whether he wants to commit suicide, or if he wants me dead. I've been able to avoid a major fall (me) and a major stomping/kicking (him), but if this keeps up, I'm going to have to choose between Kirby and severe pain. Last night I dropped a kitchen knife and I was sure he was done for (but he was safe).

I have decided to blame my parents for this. It's their fault I don't know how to be still and relax. So there!

Hmm. That did not make me feel better.