About a month ago I decided I wanted to knit myself a sweater. I always make small projects, and I tend to have creator's ADD - in that I start projects, but if they don't finish quickly they go in a pile and never get done. So taking on an entire sweater seemed to be a bit of an optimistic idea.
On Saturday night, after convincing myself a dozen times to keep going, I finished it. And then I tried it on. And it didn't fit. We're not talking - oh, it's a little tight. We're talking, the bottom half is a reasonable size 8 and the top is a reasonable girls 8. I can't get the bustline much below my neck... so it's just not gonna be happening. I'll probably take it apart, and roll the pieces up for another project.
And when I came out of the bathroom, and threw the sweater on the couch muttering "That was a waste of time." I picked up my scarf and kept knitting on that.
Matt turned around and asked, "Why do you knit so much?"
I sat still for a few minutes and thought about. Of course I've told Blogland before that it's therapy - but I really thought about it.
On Sunday mornings at church I have (more than once) contemplated bringing my knitting with me. Of course, I don't, and every Sunday I get to noon and realize all my nails are gone, my fingers hurt, and perhaps even bleeding a bit. No joke - if I don't have anything in my hands, I bite my nails.
It's a nervous habit. More so now, than ever before.
I turned to Matt and said, "I knit because it keeps me from biting my nails. And thinking."
I wish some days I could stay in that "not thinking" zone. It's easier that way.
*My scarf's almost done*