The 2nd of September.

What a nothing day.

So much nothing. I am full of yawns. I wrote up a blog post this morning, while watching Sunday Brunch. I think I started my crocheting before lunch? It's all blurred together. I'm pretty sure I did, because I was on my own, and the only time that has happened was when Grandma was being taken home from church. I had to learn a new stitch (who knew there were stitches left for me to discover?) which was a bit counter-intuitive because you seem to go backwards. Weird.

This afternoon, I have had the tv noise drifting into my ears, while concentrating on my crochet. The amount I have done looks really rather minimal, but I'm trying out a relatively complex jumper pattern using some leftover wool. I've done about a quarter of the first sleeve, which has a cable running up it, and I really have to pay attention to what stitches go where because they constantly change. It's going well, but my brain is tired.

The 3rd of September.

I've spent all day trying to distract myself from the fact that it's a year today since Dean died. I'm really trying not to think about it because I started last night and just ended up sobbing. I didn't want to do that again.

So I've felt kind of numb and sad instead. I thought I might go to the gym, but my left eye has been a problem and that was probably for the best because I don't know how I would have had a decent session in this condition.

I had three episodes of The Magicians built up on TiVo, so two of those served to take my mind off things, and I carried on with the crochet I started yesterday. Then I went to sit with the two remaining kittens (who I'm really glad were still here) and watch some more House.

I just can't talk about it. I miss him so much.