Monday, March 2, 2015

One of life’s stupid little mysteries

As usual, the new month is starting off with GREAT (ha ha) promise. I’m treating my Affirmation—“If something about my life is bothering me, I take care of it right away”—like it’s the law of the land and have already dealt with six or seven small irritations. For example, for about two months now I have considered my stainless-steel bathroom cup too gross to actually drink out of. It took five minutes to scrub it clean with baking soda this afternoon.

(Why do I do things like this? Why? Why? Why?)

Dealing with the long-neglected scarf is satisfying, too. At first I wasn’t sure why I would have let the project lapse in the first place, since it was about two-thirds done and looked great. When I picked it up again yesterday, I remembered what the roadblock was: I was running short on navy blue yarn and was going to have to run to the store to try to match it. Instead I decided to just run upstairs to my GIANT drawer of abandoned hopes and dreams yarn and use the closest thing I had. It turned out that I have owned a nearly perfect match all along, which leads me again to the obvious question: Why do I do things like this? Why? Why? Why?

Designed with (and for) my color-blind son.

1 comment:

  1. I started a cross stitch project for Sean when he was born. When I had finished half or so lost the color key. 9 YEARS later, I decided that I'd start working on the "matching" girl piece for Alex. Amazing...they used the same colors, they used the same key. DUH!