Dixie Peach: Friday Shuffle - Get With It Edition

August goes on. And on. And on. There's a bit of malaise starting up but I'm trying not to give in to it. Instead I'm just plowing on through, heading towards September.

Gerd's back home from his stay in the hospital. Actually he got home - Monday, I believe it was - but I forgot to mention it. His pain isn't so bad but he's terribly weak from the surgery and getting over the infection and the fact that he can't eat anything. Absolutely no chewing for about six weeks. If he can't drink it straight down, he can't have it. I keep suggesting that he try some of that liquid nutrition stuff but he doesn't seem interested and so far is living on broth. In the meantime he sleeps a lot and by golly I'm actually feeling sorry for the guy that he's feel so lousy! Remind me of this in a few months when Gerd's back to normal and he's driving me mad again.
It's the middle of August and the I'm-behind-on-my-knitting panic is beginning to set in. I haven't knit in two days! The scarf has to be finished by the time the Olympics is over and I can't take that long with it. I need to get finished by Wednesday so I have a clear ten days in which to finish my socks because they absolutely must be done by August 31st. I knew this would happen. I just know I will be knitting my fingers bloody on the last day so I can get the photo taken and up on Ravelry at the last minute. There are, however, two things I don't quite get. Number 1 - Why am I in such a froth over getting knitting projects done just to satisfy some self imposed deadlines I made on the Internet? If I don't get things finished on time it won't matter at all. It's not like I'm getting paid for it or I'll be punished for failing. Number two - Why was I never this whipped up over deadlines I had in college that really did mean something? Why did I never have a paper due or a test scheduled for 8am that I didn't spend the whole night before working on in a frenzy becuase of my procrastination.
I'm planning on giving my flat a thorough, not-waiting-for-autumn cleaning. Really planning it. Thinking about what I need to get to help me with this task, how I want to tackle the cleaning of each room, what things I believe I'll be disposing of, what needs to be moved from one room to another. Really giving it all deep thought. Now all I need to do is light a fire under my ass so that I not only think and plan this great undertaking but actually do it. I can't mess around with it though. I've let things get clutters and unorganized and it's starting to irritate me. I love that absolutely wonderful feeling having a cleaned, organized flat gives me and I'm craving it.
Have you noted that I used the word "flat" instead of "apartment"? It's not some sort of new I'm-so-European affectation. I simply hate the word "apartment". Hate spelling it. Hate saying it. Always have. It has never just rolled off my tongue. Years ago I started saying "flat" to B when I'd be speaking English because that's the English word he was more familiar with but I've decided I'm going full out and banishing the word "apartment" for good. It's "flat" from now on. I have been liberated!
Yes. I can't get my ass in gear to finish my knitting projects without going into a frenzy and getting my home cleaned and organized stays on the drawing board for too long but, by golly, I can make the commitment to start saying "flat"!

Enough nonsense. Let's get on to shuffling.