Project Monogamy

Thanks to all and sundry for the well wishes and general sympathy for my dental drama.  I mean, honestly!  Do you know anyone else who demands so much of you for a simple cleaning?  You are good eggs, that what you are.  Real troupers.  You aren't even deterred by the fact that I am fully aware of how needy I am and that I don't seem to have any intention of working on that.  You should get medals.

HM was sufficiently distracted from the upcoming appointment and we were able to live fully in the world of the Rational Mind for most of Thursday evening and well into Friday morning.  We didn't really encounter any issues until we were actually making our way into the first in a series of chairs.  All was well save for the fact that there may be a cavity lurking in one of my molars.  We'll have to wait for confirmation on that, though.

Once seated in the x-ray chair, HM, now fully aware of our location on the planet and miffed to no end that she'd been diverted from her usual Oscar-worthy, angst-filled performance, saw fit to bring about a full-on attack of the Gaggies.  The x-ray plate was twice projectile spat across the room, once reaching a distance of three and half feet.  Not only did this break our previous record of six inches and into the lap, but neatly got us out of any further x-rays.  We'll try again in six months.  

With the appointment behind me, I was able to begin enjoying my spiffy new extra-soft toothbrush, fine, but sturdy floss and three day weekend without distraction.  As it was a rather rainy sort of day, with a little of the sleet thrown in for good measure, circumstances dictated that I don the jammies and settle in for some good old fashioned Nestlin' Time.  It was really quite nice.

Except for one thing.  I seem to be stuck in a time loop of some sort.

I have been knitting the same four rows for ten years now.  Or two weeks.  Maybe three.  I forget.  Project Monogamy is not something I normally deal with.  Nor do I tend to take on projects that are complicated and "ooohhhh-worthy."  Mostly I knit socks.  Or mitts.  Or anything else I can finish up in a jiffy while I watch cartoons.  But, for reasons that now escape me, I have gotten myself into a pickle.  And it is a never-ending sort of pickle that is comprised of four rows.  I do them over and over.  I rest.  Then I knit them again.  And again.  And again.  

I must finish this.  It is a deadline sort of project and the clock is ticking.  I cannot escape to The World Of The Short Term Knitters until it is done.  If I stop, I'll never go back.  I gotta focus.  But sometimes, late at night, I have this recurring nightmare.  It is enough to bring me out of a dead sleep.  It is horrifying and made worse by the fact that I am starting to think it is possible.  

It starts like this:  I am sitting happily on the couch and peacefully knitting away.  Life is good.  Then, without warning....

I am attacked by the Invisibility Shawl!!!!!!

Shocked, it takes me a moment to realize what is happening.  And, as is the way of dreams, I am unable to react as quickly as I might in real life when knitwear goes for my throat.  

I find the will to fight.  Valiantly, I might add.  (shut up.  i can too fight valiantly...)

The battle rages.  It is epic.  It is the stuff that those really long poems are made of and that high school students lose interest in about half-way through.  There is a moment where I feel victory is but a hair's breadth away.

But, in the end, I am bested.  

I usually wake up at that point.  And I swear to you, I can hear that shawl laughing softly from the knitting basket.  The whole thing is rather chilling, if you want the truth.  Scarier than zombies and dentists combined.

I miss my socks.  I miss them lots and lots...

SA