This weekend I took the sock out and about, to the mountains. 
We spent the weekend there, picking blueberries, fishing and reading while the rain poured down causing flooding in the valley.
It was a good weekend, with my sweetie, his cousin and his grandparents (all of them so nice that I feel like a bad person around them, seriously).
Today it’s Tuesday, and I started school. It still doesn’t feel real, even though I went there and listened to all the speeches, walked around with a nametag and now have a stack of papers to go trough. Surreal, all of it.
When I got home from it I frogged part of the sock, a nervous inch where the toe should have started and slept.
