It's 12:04 am.
My name is Amanda & I'm finally coming out of a self inflected disarray & I'm totally a glutton for punishment.
Well...I got a ton of cutting done. In fact, I thought it was a good idea to cut fabric for 8 hours straight. Stopping only for bathroom breaks and eating some granola while standing. I should note that my cutting area is my grandmothers old desk. My grandmother who was 4'11. My desk only comes to my mid-thigh & I'm 5'6. The next day I woke up and my neck and shoulders were screaming. Well dur, I was hunched over cutting for an entire day the day before, wearing a not so supportive bra and not really paying attention to my posture. So of course, like any obsessed creature, I simply took a metric ton of tylenol & cut for TEN more hours with a heating pad on.
No big deal right?
Enter me being stuck on the couch for 2 days straight laying flat on my back. Oh and that new diet? Kinda ruining my life. I'm cranky, I want toast with peanut butter smeared all over it, diet coke? Hi, I miss you!
We watched some bad movies on netflix (Cobra with Sylvester Stallone anyone?!) and I read. A lot. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if I didn't have books to read, it would have been a LOT worse. Yesterday he took me on a car ride & we went to a local fabric store. Then I come home and slept for 6 hours. I woke up, watched more bad movies. Discovered the joys of icy-hot, slept some more then stayed up til dawn reading. Slept from 5 am til around 9 am. And realized I could move! So I did a bit of house cleaning and went to starbucks for an iced tea. Then I came home and started planning our week & Mr. McPorkchop took me to see Kick Ass. I was a slob in the back row of the movie theater. Camo sweatshirt? Check. Mens sweatpants with tapered legs? Check. Those weird heat packs that you can stick to your skin for 8 hours? Check. Smelling like a Canada mint? Check. I'm just staying classy here folks!
I have this strange sense of what my body should do and how it should react to things.
For example; I never think *any* illness should last more than 24 hours. And yet if they do, I am *so* annoyed and surprised. Where did I even come up with this idea that HEY! Don't worry, it'll be over in 24 hours?! I kept telling Mr. McPorkchop the first day "Oh! I'll be better in the morning". And he sort of looked at me like I was crazy. And when I woke up the next day & I couldn't do jumping jacks, much less move my neck, I was stunned. Who even thinks like that? ME! I put unreasonable expectations on EVERYTHING.
Let's not even get into how I've over scheduled myself for the next 3 weeks. Because..you know...3 weeks of work can totally be done in 24 hours!
;) Have a great Monday!
PS I'm stepping out of my comfort zone. I'm realizing I'm tired of seeing white/cream/beige sashed quilts in my personal projects. I'm experimenting with color color color in my sketches and I can't wait to get caught up on everything so I can try some combos out!!!!
PSS I finally got some insul-bright for the pot holder swap! Woo hoo!!!!!