What The Hell Is Wrong With Me?

Well, for one thing, I have this stupid head cold. T got it first and I kept telling him “Don’t breath on me.” But you know how well men listen. I would wake up in the middle of the night, and there he’d be, ¾ of an inch away from my face, snoring away and breathing that cold right into my airspace.


I’ve used 2 sick days this year with that stupid stomach virus (or peanut butter poisoning, whatever it was). I am not using any more sick days. Not for being sick, anyway. So I’m coming to work and sniffling away.

And don’t get all indignant with me. I’m not likely to infect anyone. I sit in such an isolated part of the building, you’d think I was contagious every day.

So, I don’t know if it’s this cold or the cold medicine or the fact that I desperately need glasses, but I just have not been able to finish that stupid baby sweater. Jeez, I remember when R and M were little, I could knock one of these things out like nothing! No thought process involved. No pain.

Now, somehow, I have to knit everything at least twice. You know, once I’ve realized I forgot to change colors. Or cast on for the arms. Or cast off for the neck. Or that I’ve decreased instead of increased. Oh, sweet baby J, the list goes on longer than I am willing to admit!

Keep in mind… A baby sweater. That means it’s like, what? Twenty square inches of knitting? That’s less knitting than a scarf.

But, it is black, mostly. Black and red. (You know I love black on babies.) And I need glasses, remember? So when I am tinking back for the forty-leventh time, I just can’t see the damn stitches. (BTW, I dreamed about this sweater the other night. I dreamed I finished it, but when I held up the completed, seamed, blocked sweater, I saw at least a dozen dropped stitches that had runnered their way down the piece.)

I’ve put off getting the glasses because, you know, it’s going to be time for bifocals. Poor old Patwoman, can’t read the road signs while driving, and now she has to knit by feel.

Anyway, I’ve missed the deadline to have this sweater done by the baby shower, so it’s just going to be a “welcome baby” gift now. I’ve pulled the cursed item off the needles and frogged back about 4 inches. Yes, that’s a large percentage of a baby sweater, I know.

Quit laughing.