Not quite knitting, but less whiny

Man, yesterday's post was pretty whiny, wasn't it? Well, this blog is called Sticks and Thread, not Fingers and Keyboard, so enough about my homework.
J. and I went to his folks' house (isn't it cool that their place can be linked to?) for Christmas, where I once again tried my hand at spinning.

You may recall my last attempt:


This time went a little better:


I even plied! Go me! The white is merino, the gray wool. I did the white one first. I think the gray looks much better, personally. I think I have about 30 yards of the white, and about 80 of the gray. I can say with confidence that they probably range from laceweight to superbulky. Hey, at least I avoided cobweb!
I'magonna make me a hat, with a hemmed brim out of the white part.

Alternating between panic and avoidance

I have some major deadlines this week and I'm stuck in a vicious cycle of panic, procrastination, more panic, exhaustion, and denial.
I don't usually participate in blogging-things, like KALs and color themes and memes and what-all have you. Nothing against them, I just usually either don't remember to do them when I'm supposed to, or in the case of the KALs, I'll start something and then get distracted.
But I like the idea of the Silent Poetry Reading.
Here's one that captures a lot about my current state of mind:

Against Pleasure
by Robin Becker
Worry stole the kayaks and soured the milk. Now, it's jelly fish for the rest of the summer and the ozone layer full of holes. Worry beats me to the phone. Worry beats me to the kitchen, and all the food is sorry. Worry calcifies my ears against music; it stoppers my nose against barbecue. All films end badly. Paintings taunt with their smug convictions. In the dark, Worry wraps her long legs around me, promises to be mine forever. Thugs hijacked all the good parking spaces. There's never a good time for lunch. And why, my mother asks, must you track beach sand into the apartment? No, don't bother with books, not reading much these days. And who wants to walk the boardwalk anyway, with scam artists who steal your home and savings? Watch out for talk that sounds too good to be true. You, she says pointing at me, don't worry so much.
Ps. There will be knitting pictures at some point. Promise.