May 6, 2014

Put it on a t-shirt

I don't play well with others.  That's what my shirt should read.  The older I get, the more this is true.  Is it just me?  Do you get so frustrated with inconsiderate people in your way, taking their time because they have nothing to do that you want to shove them out of the way?  Teen moms screaming obscenities while getting their fake nails done because their children need attention?  Attitudes that show obvious disdain towards others not like them?   Young people using grandma's handicap placard in the parking lots?  The Social Security office being filled with healthy people under thirty, their kids, and the fathers of those kids?  OK.  Obviously not what I originally wanted to post about.  But why do situations bother me now that never did?  Do we get mean as we age?  Or does our tolerance fade?  I don't know. I guess my generation was raised on accountability, responsibility, and manners.  I think about how my parents gave up new clothes or shoes, no dinners out, sacrificed for their kids.   Had respect and courtesy in public for a stranger, friend, or foe.  Moving on.
I don't play well with others.  I've never participated in a stitch along, mostly because I don't like commitments.  Many of you will be in the BBD sampler group and once again, I'm not.  I plan on following the chart and completing this without checking on others' progress.  If I see stitching from a participant on a linen I like more, with colors I like more, well, there 'ya go.  Doubts, hesitation, another start?  You know how many times this would happen?  I do like the fabric and colors I chose, but already wish the count was different.  I don't need to be confused more.  When mine is complete, I will check out everyone's work.  The four sided stitch is fuzzy with the wool and I like it. Maybe anything other than 28 count would not show as well.  As for the stitch, it takes a while to complete a letter.  And of course, I don't follow the stitch diagram, I just come up and go down where I want.  It's much easier to be visual than trying to remember correct stitch placement when others things are floating around in my head.  Hopefully, they will land soon.
My brother is on his way over to pick up what's left of my broken gold jewelry to cash out.  Just a few charms left, and this.  My original engagement ring was set high and broken in the proof machine at the bank 40 years ago.  This was my second setting.  It's 18K, doesn't even fit my little finger, and although beautiful, not me.  So I think I will have him remove the diamond and cash the gold.  Wait.  Maybe not.  No.  I have no use for it, haven't worn it in years, and it will never fit again.  Wait.  Damn.  ????  See what I go through?  How the hell can I pick a paint color?

He just phoned and will be here shortly.  Decision time.  And I better throw the mess into another room,  He's a neat freak and has palpitations when he enters the construction zone.
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