Is it too early for beer? Yes it is, Catherine, shut up and drink your Diet Coke.

I've been awake since 4-ish, strange, PMS-fueled dreams disturbed my sleep, and I woke up feeling slightly manic, a feeling which only increased after I drank most of a pot of coffee. I put my rare burst of energy to good use, cleaning out the computer armoire and sorting papers and tackling this and that - tasks I'd procrastinated, like going through more of my packrat husband's effects. The cable company is coming out Wednesday to switch the cable modem to the living room - as I had suspected, they reacted with horror to the idea of my doing it myself, like I was proposing do-it-yourself brain surgery. If I have to take an afternoon off work and the tech shows up with a three-way splitter and a long piece of coax, I'm gonna be really pissed. There better be alot more to this than that. Anyway, after a few hours of non-stop cleaning, I'm done for the day (except for laundry) and I plan to park and knit for the rest of the afternoon. It's overcast and hot and muggy as hell outside, the afternoon thunderstorms should be arriving shortly, and I have zero desire to go anywhere or do anything else.

WEBS sent me their new catalog, I skimmed it quickly and I'll have to sit and savor it later. Lots of weaving stuff. I still think about a loom every now and then, but then come back to my senses - I barely have time to knit, when am I going to have time to learn to weave? I need to get real and pick projects I can actually finish.

Speaking of "slightly manic," I had a phonecall from my mother, who is 77 years old and determined to master the intricacies of the cellular telephone, for reasons I cannot fully understand. So far, it's kicking her butt. She shouts into it, sounds really nervous, and then if there is a moment of silence (like, she's paused for breath in her monologue about the latest health woes of relatives I haven't seen in 35 years) she shouts, "Are you there?" Yes Mom, I'm here, I just can't get a word in. I'm not sure which is worse, the cellphone calls where my parents pass the phone back and forth, talking more to each other about the phone than to me, or the ones where they each get on an extension of the house phone and talk to each other while devouring my cellphone minutes. At least when they do that on the weekend they're in my unlimited minutes, so I guess I shouldn't complain. They're comical, really, but sometimes I just don't have the energy for it. I used housework as an excuse (always a noble one) and ended the call after she ran out of sick relatives, but boy, I was just fascinated to hear that a cousin I literally have not seen since I was 10 had a hysterectomy a few weeks ago. Apparently this was Big News on the Old Lady Circuit composed of my 90 year old great aunt and 70something mom and aunt. Cousin in question is older than me and way past the birthin' babies age, I really doubt she'll miss her uterus. Mine just hangs around to annoy me.

I'm going to go work on the market bag now - I'm up to the first row of gold diamonds. The colors are black, red, purple, teal and gold, I bought the Cascade 220 from those wonderful guys at Threadbear. Rob said he'd made a similar one and the color scheme was described as "medieval." I like that. Once I get started on a row it becomes an obsession, I want to finish it the same day. After I complete one color repeat I'll post a picture, if the sun ever shines again. Oh, and the tropical wave that was SURELY GOING TO BECOME A GIANT HURRICANE, COME RIGHT UP THE CENTER OF THE STATE AND KILL US ALL fizzled out overnight. The weatherpoodles' topknots were drooping this morning, as they tried to pretend they really thought this was good news instead of a disappointing blow to their career ambitions.