Mental Blockage

Do you think that if I drink Drain-o and wait fifteen minutes before rinsing my mouth out with water that it would remove the blockage from my brain today? I think it might. Although, not in the way I'd want. The last thing I want to do is have my spirit staring up at the Goddess hearing, "Just for that, your next life will be as a tapeworm."

The brain clog is mainly keeping me from finishing this latest pattern. I swear it started out as a capybara. Then it sort of morphed. For a while it was a dinosaur. then it became a dismembered puppy. This project started last Thursday and has gone on five days too long. The little fucker better turn out cute. BE CUTE DAMN IT! Isn't the amigurumi process precious?

I checked out the house yesterday and it was, unfortunately, too small. The loft bedroom had a low enough ceiling that my husband bumped right into the hanging fan. Nothing weird about the place, although we found out why it had no taxes listed. It is currently being sold by the local Benedictine convent. That also explains the crucifixes in every room. Unlike my dismembered ami dog at the moment, the house was cute, just not the right fit - literally.

I suppose I have to abandon my dreams of designing it (something I secretly do with all the houses I look at). I'll have to go back to small, artsy-fartsy projects involving duct tape and toilet paper tubes. <sigh> You know, someone should really figure out a diy way to kidnap and enslave Martha Stewart's design team. That way I can entertain like this and be hated yet loved by all women! Mwa ha ha ha! I need to get out.