Kwitcherbitching

I know...another long post sans photos, and not even completely about knitting...

I’d like to know at what point discourse changes from a simple observation and statement of facts to actual bitching. I have a co-worker who constantly tells me that I’m bitching about things if I make an observation about them. This morning’s complaints about my bitching: I ordered breakfast with said co-worker at 9:29am from Denny’s. This was probably my first mistake….well, my first two mistakes—I mean, breakfast at Denny’s, really? Anyway, at approximately 10:38 am I inquired about the delivery of breakfast. I got a series of one word responses from her, and then this:

“Next time you can order your own food. This bitching is getting old. You should be happy, your mother's in town remember.”

I was taken aback to say the least. Now, if you’ve known me for more than say a week you probably have an idea about my ‘relationship’ with my mother. I’ve known this woman for a year, and had what I thought was a deep touching conversation about mothers with her. She is less inclined to be sweet about her mother than I am. She doesn’t seem to remember this conversation, and has been throwing around the “ you should be happy…” about my mother’s visit for the last week or so. I’m not sure why she thinks I’m unhappy, or what she thinks I feel at all. What I do know is that I have no intention of shucking and grinning around this place just to make her comfortable.

Ice Cube had a line in “True to the Game” a long time ago, back when he was a hard core rapper, and that’s what goes through my head when people tell me I need to smile. I’m over it. I’m over her. I’m glad we had this exchange this morning. I think people always show their true feelings after a while. She’ll get over what ever it is that’s crawled up her arse this morning and want to have lunch again next week, but I’m good. I’ve got lots of studying to do for this Physics class. I told my therapist that I don’t expect to get an A in this class (she wants me to believe that I’m smart.), but in all honestly, I’m so concerned about my ability to do this work—to absorb and apply this knowledge—that I’ll be happy with a C. I’m a bit stressed out about everything that’s going on in my life and I don’t need people to try to unload their shit on me...not today...not at all.

I have been knitting. It’s become the thing that I do with my hands so that my jaw doesn’t tighten up. I don’t do the waiting thing well, and I swear I’ve been waiting since last September. I feel like all I’m doing is hurrying up to wait some more. In September I gave up on Weight Watchers and went to my doctor to inquire about gastric bypass surgery. First she said: You don’t want to do that, you won’t be able to eat steak. I told her: I can’t eat steak now based on the plans I’m supposed to follow, so what’s the difference. I've put in the work and gotten little results. I'm ready to move on. When she saw that I was serious she told me that the rules were that I had to have at least six months of medically supervised weight loss. I asked her if the 18 months of Weight Watchers meant nothing and she said that is correct, you must see a nutritionist.

So I made my appointment and started seeing the nutritionist. She recommended a high carb/low fat/low protein plan for me. I followed it for two weeks and gained weight. Then I started doing what I’ve been doing for what feels like forever and stabilized. I made it through my six months, and only gained six pounds during that time. Of course I only ate soup, and meat for the last two weeks of the process. Anyway. I’ve been reading Crazy Aunt Purl and after yesterday’s post feel like I should just tell you all this is what’s going on with me.

I finished up with the nutritionist in March and figured it would be smooth sailing from there on out. Not so much. It’s been lots and lots of waiting. Waiting for the nutritionist to send her report to the doctor. Waiting for the doctor to submit for the referral. Waiting for the IPA to get all the necessary documentation and decide about the referral. My referral to the surgeon was transferred to the psychologist and it was a two week wait to get in to see him. That was this past Monday. Now I’m waiting for the transcriptionist to type up the report, him to sign it and it to be sent to my pcp so that she can resubmit for me to go see the surgeon. Yes, surprisingly enough I passed the psych eval. And this is why I’ve been leaving the SnB early on Thursday s to attend the support group meetings. Last night was a presentation from a plastic surgeon…..really quite interesting.

So, in all my waiting I’ve knitted quite a bit. I made a pair of worsted weight socks for one of my classmates. I also made fingerless mitts for myself and two other classmates. Mine are out of Koigu, the peachy solid Koigu that was a scarf that sprung a hole a long time ago….old yarn new life. I completed one set of mitts out of this alpaca wool blend yarn I had in the stash. I loved the color…hated the shedding…gave them away. Those were the first pair, and didn’t have thumbs, just holes. I figured out the thumbs on the peach Koigu ones and put them in on the black ones for another classmate and will put them on the lavender ones for yet another classmate….those were both made of Simply Soft in the stash. There are only three other women in the class that I plan to knit for, one I’ll make socks…the other I think a scarf that’s light and lacey and will take more concentration than I can muster now, and the last one actually knits and she bought herself the stuff to make the MaryElla, but doesn't feel that she's capable. I’m thinking, as much as I don’t want to, I’ll offer to make her MaryElla for her….we’ll see.

I’ve also made 2.25 Ballband Warshrags in the pattern from the Mason-Dixon Knitting book. They’re also made out of stash yarn, and will be Mother’s Day gifts for my mother because although past gifts have received lukewarm receptions I am compelled to knit for my mother because I do love her and am really happy that she’s in town.