Well, my firstborn turned 17 yesterday. Given that on most days, I don't feel any older than 17, this has come as something of a shock. He's been taller than me for almost three years, so I don't know why it's so surprising that he'll be an adult in twelve months. Maybe cuz I can see the end of the ride? Who knew it was going to be so short??
I worked on his socks more last night, gusset is almost done, then the endless expanse of foot, some toe work and I'm done. They'll be finished by the time he gets home on Saturday.
Work is the same... I did some phenomenal production on Tuesday, but the "crisis" (as usual) was just a figment of the Real Employee's little drama. No job prospects at this point, and no interviews from the outstanding applications, either. We finally had some thunderstorms and the weather was completely acceptable yesterday. I rode my bike in today, as I fixed the flat. Had a quick chat with the co-temp-workers in their little side office, cuz talking to the dog isn't really feeding my need for conversation.
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