I'm working on umpteen things at a time:
I cannot wait when I have finished the second sock because the first one fits
I also got somewhat fed up with my current sweater and wanted some instant gratification project. The bluish cluster is Noro's Suzuran, pure wool, same pattern as the Ravelympics sweater - when I got an idea, it's such a rare occurence that I stick to it. To the idea, I mean, not to the occurence.
Tape measure. Comes handy while knitting.
A handful of samples to review: Idylle, Basala, Sagamore, Sira des Indes, Courreges in Blue, Detchéma, Naked Honey, Vetiver Dance, Derby, something from Susanne Lang.
Anti-wrinkle cream: did I say that I have body image issues? Well, and I'm fighting my wrinkles before they get serious. I seem to have a hint of bags under my eyes. Welcome, middle age.
Psych meds. Allergy meds.
The glass brick is a stand for the flacon of Quand vient la pluie. I don't have the flacon so I stick needles in it.
Knitpicks Harmony: that's the needles. They are interchangeable, I can screw the tips onto cables and it was one of the best buys in my life. Smooth joints which I particularly appreciate after having knit quite a bit with circulars made of indefinable grey metal that splintered. Cables that don't tear off the needle - ditto. They are smooth, pointed and pretty. I could stand the needles a bit longer, I have big paws, but still.
Blotters. I'm careful with applying fragrances on skin without trying beforehand. That could be said twice for Idylle which is crap.
Chanel's pressed powder in Sickly Pale. Nope, the shade is called Lilas, lilac (Syringa for the sciencey types) and it's sickly pale, my natural colour if you forget the freckles.
Coffee = fuel. I've slept badly and the psych meds do a bit weird things.
Snustad's textbook on genetics. Exam looming ahead.
Life as if nothing had happened. Not that there would be anything going on. I'm still somewhat shaky although the side effects of the antidepressants are slowly diminishing. I'm reading and knitting, no big deal. I take an immense pleasure in knitting, that mindless sort. It probably does something to the serotonine levels.
Something will happen.