"Nope. Forty-five inches." He shrugged, folded the fabric neatly back onto the bolt, and handed it to me. Ok, I thought. So my dress won't be emerald green. I took the bolt from him and wandered back to the 'luxury fabrics' section of the store with a sinking feeling. I compared the width to the red and blue velvets I liked. They, too, were 45" widths. I grumbled (audibly) and mentally scratched options 2 and 3 off the list.

Option 4 was dupioni silk. At first, I hadn't liked it, but the drape would've been been fantastic and the colors had begun to appeal more to me, the more I looked at them. It, too, was forty-five inches wide. I didn't even bother taking it to be measured. I could just tell by looking at it.I found a blue, spangly material that would have been lovely, but there obviously wasn't five yards to be had. With a sigh, I put that back too. I began to mutter statements such as, "If I can't find anything within the next five minutes, I'm leaving empty-handed and going home to sulk." I found a burgundy shantung-style polyester, with a little bit of a satiny shimmer but a decent amount of body to it. It looked to be about 55-60" wide, which would be wide enough for my needs, but was there enough of it?

I took it to the table and had it measured.

"Five and a half yards."

I debated taking the whole thing (and, probably, should have) but opted only for five yards. The gift horse was breathing on me, and I was trying my best not to look up. I picked out lining, interfacing, and sleeve material, and got out with a minor amount of my sanity intact, and a wallet that was mysteriously missing about $60. I'd managed to snatch something that looked like a victory out of a thoroughly unsatisfactory shopping trip, and decided to quit while I was ahead.

* * * * *

I've been slogging through the past couple of days frustrated by my digestive system's insistence on treating this 'food' thing as an annoyance, not to be tolerated. As a result, I've tired more easily in the past few days. By the time I got home from Birmingham, I found myself looking at the couch longingly, thinking I might "lie down for a few minutes before Jeff got home."

Two hours later, I sat straight up on the couch, inadvertently dislodging an embedded cat as I did so, realizing that the room had gotten dark and I hadn't heard Jeff come home, and weren't we supposed to be at Stephen and Misty's for dinner and visitation with friends? It was then I saw the light in the computer room on. I stumbled back there, scrubbing sleep from droopy eyes, and found my spouse, placidly working on the server.

"You didn't wake up when I came home, so I just let you sleep for a while. Figured I'd wake you up when it was time to head over to Stephen & Misty's for tonight."

"Did the phone ring? I thought maybe I'd heard it ring."

"Yep. It was Kat. She needed to know Ashley and Jonathan's number. I took care of it."

"Thanks."

A few hours and a couple of newly-taken aspirins later, I think perhaps it's time to give up the ghost. I've taped my wrist, to better deal with the humidity rolling in ahead of what promises to be a good batch of early-morning thunderstorms.

A good night's sleep, and a couple of days of not driving, will take care of the rest.

Current music: Beth Orton, Central Reservation (thanks, Gareth!)