Sadness Is...

stepping out of your apartment for a few minutes and missing a package, and not just any package, but a package full of yarn and needles. Sigh. Is there any consolation? My boyfriend says, well, you're still knitting a sock. Being a yarn lover isn't so much about loving to work with the yarn as it is about looking at, admiring, and imagining the possibilities embedded within that yarn. So I suppose I'll wake early Monday morning and trek over to the post office. I'll get there right at 8:00. I'll meet that package like a lover being reunited with a beloved. And it also doesn't help that today I'm as menstrual as I can get. I feel 16-year-old menstrual. Everything feels out-of-place: my barrette is pinching my hair, my bra is pinching, my back hurts, my head hurts, I can't seem to pin-point whatever it is I'm craving, I can't focus, I keep dropping things, the sky is overcast, I feel irritable and depressed, and alas, I've missed my package full of yarn.