I meant to update sooner, but I've got half a head cold. Or maybe it's sinusitis. Sunday night, after a long, inconvenient commute home on public trans, I felt an itch in my ear. Not the kind that can be soothed with a well-aimed q-tip, but an itch behind my ear drum. Monday, I awoke a mess. My sinuses may be my Achilles' heel. When they hurt, I am useless. So, I made my way to the local Walgreens and bought some sinus drano, which required a state ID. Thank god I finally replaced my old, broken in half license. Still, if a person has liquids issuing forth from their nasal cavities, can't you assume they're not going to use the one box of decongestants to make meth? The drug in question "may cause drowsiness", which is a crazy understatement. It knocked me out cold and I awakened miraculously in time to take the next dosage. So, I slept through Gossip Girl, No Reservations, and any other thing I might have wanted to do in the past couple days. I'm not complaining--it worked. I can breathe through both of my nostrils now and don't feel like my head may implode at any minute anymore. Fucking sinuses.

Yes, I finally replaced my driver's license. The last one was issued in 2000 and looked it. Really, it was fine until this year, when it cracked. The crack spread until the license was in two pieces. This does not amuse bartenders, and it occurred to me that it could cause trouble if I were pulled over for speeding. I suppose I could not speed, but that would be a waste of fine German engineering. After getting my hair cut last week, I snuck off to the secret Secretary of State express office and got a new license. The picture still looks like shit, but my hair looks great. Some time in the past eight years, they redesigned the licenses in Illinois. My new, legit driver's license looks like a total fake to me, even though I know it's not.

The hair. It's short. This is the shortest that my hair has been since my mom forced me to get a pixie cut in kindergarten. I wouldn't want it any shorter, since this is still a bit of a shock. My previous haircut hadn't grown out very well. It was a mess, probably because I rarely did anything with it. Despite being shorter, the new cut is one that has to be styled. "You just have to get up ten minutes earlier," the stylist told me, which I found quite amusing. Some of my friends may think that I get up early and read the New York Times over a cup of coffee and toast. Really, I am possessed of the handy talent of waking up at the last possible minute. I'll have to train myself to wake earlier for a more high-maintenance morning routine.

On the knitting front, I finished the pair of socks for myself that got me through tech and have started my Christmas knitting. I am knitting a pair of socks in Socks that Rock for an appreciative female relative. I'm using the same pattern as my last project, so it's as close to mindless as anything with cables and seed stitch can be. Also on deck for the holidays: another pair of socks, in Claudia Handpainted Sport, a feather and fan cardigan in Malabrigo Worsted, a pair of wrist warmers in Dream in Color Classy, and a Tuscany shawl in Manos silk blend. Yes, that's an ambitious amount of knitting. Maybe even unrealistic. I've decided to take public trans instead of driving to work, so I'll have another couple hours a day to knit previously spent in traffic.

I'd love to squeeze in some knitting for myself as well, but I'm not sure that will happen. I picked up a long neglected UFO, a wrap cardigan in Dream in Color Classy, but it's fallen into disfavor again. I'm knitting the sleeves on dpns, picking up stitches from the body. It doesn't travel well. Lately, I just sleep, shower, and play on the internet at home, so little progress has been made. Maybe I have to psych myself up for a new sweater.

Maybe my body was ripe for the sinusitis because my sleep schedule has been all over the place lately. I don't get home until midnight, but I still do things like get up at 5.45 am to volunteer with my grandfather and his Kiwanis friends. Fortunately, Pancake Day is only once a year, because I am rarely aware of 5.45 am. I was the first volunteer to arrive, so for a good half an hour, it was me and a bunch of WWII vets standing over a griddle in a smoky tent. My theatre background really prepared me for cooking pancakes for four plus hours. Like a show, the pancakes don't care if you need to go to the bathroom, send a text message, etc. They cook when they cook and you work on their schedule. It was hard work, but I had a great time. I even received a compliment. One of the vets called me a hard worker! You really have to work your ass off to get that kind of praise from a WWII vet, so I felt honored.


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