I'm still pretty indifferent to my current knitting projects, but I'd forgotten my old motivational stand-by:
As soon as these Christmas projects are done, I can begin on the Year of Me. MEMEMEMEME. There's that yarn, sitting in my closet, waiting for me to start mitering. There's also a whole bag of cotton close to the lavender in this photo, for a casual lace pullover for me. I could knit them both at once, if I wanted - I usually do two projects at once. All I have to do is finish this sweater and three scarves first. When I look at it that way, it doesn't sound too bad and suddenly I want to knit like the wind so I can dig into all that cotton and feel like I'm doing something interesting. (I fear that often, once the design phase is over, the romance is gone for me and the knitting up is kind of a snore - like with the Husbeast Gansey.)
Besides my sudden motivation, there's nothing exciting. The baby and I both have colds and are huddled down in front of the TV together, sipping water and cuddling when she's in the mood to hold still. (That's often how we tell she's not feeling well. She sits still.) I'm trying to figure out how to get chicken noodle soup into her. The idea of liquid off a spoon is something she still doesn't quite get, though the results are pretty funny.
Must. Go. Knit.