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Monday, November 11th, 2019 08:54 pm
Daily wordcount: 2,125
Total wordcount: 11,310
On/off target: -7,027

Did not want to write at all today, but managed to just eek past my goal of 2,000 words for the day, starting in the middle of the sentence where I left off yesterday!

…would hopefully hide it completely. It was easy to add extra swirls and swoops, and while I was going to have to pay very close attention to the pattern and do a lot of color changes, I was convinced I could pull it off. Probably not quickly, which was another reason to start it now. It might be the last one I got done, depending on how my other projects went. I was worried about a few of them working, but at least there was a test to see if it was acceptable. The only problem was that it would have to be done at night, and then Steve would see it. Unless he started going out places. Or maybe I could give them to someone else to test? That would mean either going back to the shop and hoping they would help me, or telling a friend what was going on.

The first didn’t appeal to me because as much as she acted chagrined about her sales pitch, I still felt like she had been out to fleece me. I wouldn’t have believed the sheets of instructions, either, if they had included anything I had to buy and if I hadn’t seen the same instructions mentioned repeatedly online. So if it was complete bull, it was at least widely believed bull and I probably wouldn’t find anything that would work any better somewhere else.

Involving friends would require me having friends, and not just acquaintances. There were people from work I hung out with on occasion, and old school friends I got together with from time to time, but in the last few years so many of my old friends had started families or moved away that I had become something of a hermit. And I found that I greatly enjoyed it. I got in enough social interaction at work, and I had online friends and a few people I saw regularly at craft events, but I got to go home and just relax most evenings. Would I rather have someone to talk to at home? Maybe, sometimes, and maybe that’s why I was enjoying Steve’s company, for all that I didn’t trust him.

And if I did have close friends, I wouldn’t want to endanger them. Or have them think I was insane, which would be a distinct possibility. I would think I was crazy if I hadn’t seem what I’d seen. And I wouldn't blame them for wanting me committed for telling them about demons and ancient occult books and knitting arcane symbols into scarves. Though someone was going to end up with this scarf, because hell if I was going to put this much effort into something that went nowhere, and I had enough scarves.

That's the thing about being a crafty person. You end up with way too many things, and the constant need to create more. Idle hands and whatnot. So what do you do with the things you make? A lot of people look down on handmade things, which is sad. Then again, even I have to admit a lot of handmade things are pretty sad... not everyone is super-talented, and more than one thing I made when to the scrap heap, especially when I was learning. But I also have heaps and heaps of things other people have made that I use and adore daily, even more so because I know how long they took to make them.

But I digress. Again. I sat, knitting the pattern carefully and meticulously, as the sun began to settle. The minute it had slipped below the horizon, there was a slight shifting in the air and I knew Steve had returned. He was in the kitchen, and already grabbing for the recipe card I'd put out on the counter before I could turn around.

"Chili? Well, this is an interesting version of it, but I can see where it might be very good..." He was talking to himself as much as to me as he busied himself in the kitchen gathering up all the ingredients.

"Weather's getting colder, it seemed appropriate," I said. "Want me to start a movie now, or wait until you're ready to come and sit?"

"Depends, what were you going to put on?"

"I don't know, do you feel more like a natural disaster horror movie, a creature horror movie, or a slasher horror movie? Or a non-horror movie? Oh, there's also the supernatural horror, zombies and whatnot."

"It was a creature feature last night, what were you thinking as far as natural disaster?" He threw the meat and seasoning into the pot and the smell of cooking filled the room, making my stomach rumble.

"Well, there's the series of volcano flicks that came out years ago, Dante's Peak being the best and most serious one, then there's the one about the volcano in Los Angeles? I think it might have just been called Volcano, but I do remember the tagline was 'the coast is toast.' And then one about the supervolcano in the national park. That one might have been creatively titled Supervlcano. Though I'm pretty sure that was a SyFy special. Not sure I can get that one."

"What about ice? It's getting cold out, we're having chili, it seems like it's the time of year for some snow storm or ice storm natural disasters. Wasn't there the one about the year 2012? Was that it? Didn't people freeze solid? I've seen that one, I just can't remember, but it could be one you could start while I was still getting this ready, then I'll have to let it simmer just a bit, and then we can move on to something else."

"Have you seen Ice Twisters? If I can't get that one somewhere, I would totally buy it, it is just that hilariously bad."

"I have not, we can queue that one up for number two!"

Okay, but just remember I do have to go to bed at a decent hour tonight, I have work in the morning," I said, and realized I was more bummed about that than I had been in a long time. I was enjoying the easy camaraderie we were developing, and it was nice to have someone who took an interest in the same things I did. Even if he was just feigning an interest to get me hooked to ultimately make me... I don't know, what did demons make people do? Murder their loved ones?

I put the thought out of my mind. If Steve could pick up on my thoughts or even my emotions, it was probably best to keep them as calm and off-topic as possible. So I started up 2012, a movie I really didn't like much at all, and concentrated on my knitting. To my delight and surprise, Steve was much more in the mood to riff on the movie than to watch it in utter silence and concentration, so it wasn't as arduous of a viewing experience as I thought it would be. We snarked about the bad science and stupid decisions made by the characters, and, interestingly enough, the topic of conversation turned to post-apocalyptic survival as the movie was winding down. I'd made good progress on my scarf, and I set it aside as dinner was ready and we dished up bowls of chili to talk about the end of the world.

You'd think it would be an odd thing to talk about with a demon, but, surprisingly, his views on it were similar to most people's. Having skills that would be useful to survival is, of course, the most important thing, and it's amazing how many people don't really have any. My utter and complete mastery of Candy Crush Soda Saga won't get me much when I'm starving to death.

"But you do at least have one skill I've seen," he said. "You're knitting. And that's one of those things that you might not need right off, but eventually, clothing and textile will rot, and people will need new things to stay warm. Do you do other crafts?"

"I do," I said. This was eerily convenient, as part of my plan to re-banish him was predicated on me doing a bunch of different types of crafts to hide the symbols around the room. Did he know about that? I took a deep breath and tried to control my nervousness. "I mean, I have. Not so much, recently. Work has kinda taken over my life, and, honestly, sometimes I just don't have the energy for it, even when I do have the time. It's easier when I have a reason to craft, like for the holidays or a craft swap, but just making things for the sheer joy and fun of it... doesn't happen as often anymore."

"That's sad. You do need to make time for your hobbies."

He sounded so sincere and sweet when he said it, and my shoulders sagged. It was true, the fact that I hadn't been crafting and creating was taking a toll on me. I missed it, and I missed it a lot. I needed to make the time to do things that made me happy. But where was I going to find the energy?

"It's not just about the time. Sometimes it is, sure, but sometimes I get home from work and just slouch on the couch and listlessly watch television instead of doing anything because I just don't have the motivation. I want to do something, anything, but I just can't make myself. And that's even more depressing, which makes it that much harder to do anything... it's a vicious cycle and spiral. Sometimes I can get motivated, especially with trying something new." I gestured to the knitting piled in the basket next to me. "But once the initial excitement of trying something different or challenging wears off, I often don't even finish it. I have... way too many unfinished projects. It's depressing to even think about."

"You should finish them," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock," I shot back. What can I say, it was a touchy subject.

"I know, I know, easier said than done. But you can make a plan, and if you make steady progress on that plan, eventually you'll have fewer and fewer unfinished projects and you'll have less stress."

"Have you seen my craft room?" I asked.

"No, why?"

"Just go look at it. It's the second door on the left down the hallway. You might have to push a bit to get the door open."

He wandered off down the hall, looking unconvinced by the need for this mini field trip. It occurred to me suddenly that he might think this was a trick to get him to wander into a circle, though the lack of candles should make it evident that wasn't the case here. Burning candles in my craft room would be the height of irresponsibility, what with the mounds of unstable, flammable materials everywhere.

He reappeared in the living room a moment later, looking a little shell-shocked. I didn't say anything as he picked up the dinner dishes and took them into the kitchen and came back out with two glasses of wine. I took mine gratefully, and grinned over the rim at him as he settled back into his end of the sofa.

"So, you see my dilemma?" I asked. "As much as I'd like to 'just do it', there's a lot of very not fun doing that needs to be done first, or I could work around the mess, but that's even more work. I just feel terribly overwhelmed and every time I make plans to get things done, other things come up. Events, work stress, heck, even just a cold can derail your plans. Who has time to get everything they want done?"

"Yeah, that's life," Steve said mildly. "Doesn't everyone feel that way?"

"Weirdly, no. I know a few people at work who could retire, but don't, because they - quote - don't know what they'd do with themselves," I said, making sarcastic little air quotes. "I tell them that I'll retire for them, because I have plenty that would keep me busy. Don't get me wrong, I waste plenty of time, too, but for the most part I think I just have too much to do."

"So..." Steve looked a bit uncomfortable with the shift the conversation had taken, and I wasn't sure why, but I was fine with letting it drop for now. "How about that next movie?"

I picked up the remote and started Ice Twisters, the ridiculousness of the plot lifting my mood until it was time to turn in to bed for the evening.

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