And I have ennui.

I can’t seem to work up the energy for much besides work and lying on my couch having increasingly odd dreams.

This is one of the reasons I’ve never liked summer. I much prefer the other seasons–fall, especially. Fall to me feels like beginnings. It’s crisp, but not cold. The air is invigorating and there is this sense of excitement in the air. I love the smells of fall–pumpkin, apples, leaves, wood smoke, hot coffee and wool sweaters.

Summer, though, is lazy. It’s too hot and humid outside to do much except lay around. I just want to sit and stare into space. I pick up books to read and put them down again, and the same goes for knitting projects.

I’ve got quite a bit on the needles, because I keep starting things but I don’t seem to have the willpower to get anywhere.

I’ve started Perdita, from the latest Knitty, but I can only get a few rows in before my hands cramp up. That’s what I get for making anything that uses embroidery floss and seed beads on size US1 needles, I suppose.

I’ve also got a shrug, that I’m making progress on. It’s for a class I’m teaching, though, so it doesn’t really count. I have to make progress on it.

There’s also a Red Heart afghan, Grecian Plait from Knitty (which I started 2 years ago? 3? and am now reclaiming from the UFO pile), Ribbon X-Back from Knitty, the Calleigh tank, and a pair of socks.

Not to mention things which need finishing–Mainly Under the Hoodie from Stitch n Bitch, and Icarus.

Yet, what do I do? I lay on the couch, drifting off to sleep and daydreaming of moving somewhere, preferably England (or maybe Canada), anywhere but this country. I read Harry Potter and dream of Hogwarts and owls and magic and all it comes back to is wanting to be anywhere but here.