Graduation blues

Today is Worldwide Knit in Public Day. How I would have loved to have knitted in public--I haven't in some time--but I had less enjoyable things to do.

This is Graduation Weekend, a time I dread more than most days out of the year. I had a fourteen and a half hour work day because we are required to tape three local high school graduations. Commencement is boring enough when you know a graduate or two. Imagine not knowing anyone receiving a diploma yet having to spend more than half of a beautiful Saturday devoted to the slow march of high school grads.

For a fleeting moment I considered bringing my knitting. I had enough student employees, so I just needed to serve as supervisor. With all those empty hours needing to be filled at the amphitheater, knitting would be just the thing to pass the time; however, no one at work has the slightest inkling that I knit. Unveiling my secret in front of this particular bunch didn't seem like the wisest idea either. That point was driven home when I overheard two of our male student workers talking about having gone to JoAnn's for some reason and stressing how they really shouldn't have been in the place.

So, sadly there was no knitting in public--or knitting at all--for me. (I've been too tired to do anything since I got home.) Instead I finished reading Thunderstruck, Erik Larson's non-fiction account of Marconi's development of wireless telegraphy interwoven with The North London Cellar Murder in Edwardian London. It's not the knockout that Larson's last book, The Devil in the White City, was, but it's an interesting story with a breathless chase of murder suspects across the Atlantic Ocean. The period's science vs. commerce debate and tension in technology's cross-platform use is just as relevant today. (I kept thinking of Apple and Microsoft.)

Sunday brings another graduation to be recorded. *groan* I'm through the worst of it, and I will know some of the college students getting their degrees. Still, putting in more than sixty percent of a work week in two weekend days doing one of the most snooze-inducing things imaginable is, umm, not fun. I'll need to knit tomorrow night to shake off the after effects of the mind-numbing repetition that defines these ceremonies.