Daily Writing Gripe/Rant

I polished off our last bottle of wedding wine last night. I don't like to keep an open bottle of wine around for more than a day. The wine made me frisky--I made phone calls, physically harassed Joe, and stayed up past midnight hemming the dress I've been working on. But I woke up later than usual, and I feel a little guilty about it. Every day there are so many things to do, and I need to chomp at the bit to get to them if I ever want to make anything of myself.

The sewing is a big distraction. I love to sew. I love using my Bernina. Once I start a project, all I want to do is finish it. My current project is an a-line dress with sleeves, made from a vintage pattern with vintage fabric. I even lined it and added darts to the back, which was not part of the pattern. Maybe I'm becoming a better seamstress--you know, competent.

But today I need to write, not sew. Write articles, too, not blog entries. But the blog is good, a literary warm-up. Like, I can write crappy, self-indulgent stuff on here (I do every day!) and it really makes litte difference, because so few people see it. I hope S&T never becomes popular, because I'd miss writing with no consequences. I'd have to take up writing in a journal again, which I am too lazy to do. Typing is faster.