forgive me the raunchy title. how it takes me back to year 2001, a year covered in heartbreaking teenager angst and soundtracked by a certain iowan 8-piece with a well-noted affection for such raunchy titles.
but i’m not really a people person. i see that now.
this week, at work, i’ve witnessed so much astonishingly assholistic behavior from all and every direction that i’m currently on the verge of losing my faith in mankind.
you see, there’s a very special symbiotic bond between you and your LYS worker. the store wouldn’t exist without you, and satan would use your hands for masturbation without the store. an open and creative dialogue with mutual respect among all parties is encouraged and nursed for the benefit of the individual, the community, and the entire human race.
some people choose to treat this sacred bond with the loving proverbial curb stomp instead.
please note that while there is a certain responsibility on my part to be the smart one; to not get dragged into childish feuds and unending he-said-she-said bullshit; to be polite and show respect even to the douchiest, most outrageously inappropriate people–which thankfully sometimes pays off–there’s a limit to anyone’s endurance, including mine.
i am not your BFF, or your therapist, or your general piñata-style punching bag.
and if you’re having problems which i, at that particular moment, for whatever reason, cannot help you solve, then go home and cry in the dark like everyone else, YOU MISERABLE ASSHOLE.
that felt good.
and thankfully each day, after another day’s worth of trying to cope with all the shit described above, i get to come home to this.
all sarcasm and ironic moustaches aside, for real, seriously, i truly honestly shit you not–
–this is the most enjoyable knit i’ve ever had on my hands.
it’s a BT lace wrap with three simultaneous charts and 40+ row repeats, but i don’t ever want it to end. normally i’d rather go all gaear grimsrud on myself than volunteer for lace. especially during times of great emotional discomfort.
here, there’s a sense of pure zen-like relaxation when i’m creating these stitches. a perfect pairing of the exact right texture of the yarn and smooth wooden surface of the needles. the meditative repetitiveness of the garter stitch. the sense of achievement after a completed chart. just one more row, i keep telling myself, and lose myself in the silky grey haze.
forget all about the stress-induced zombie nightmares. the panic attacks. the lunchbreaks spent crying in the kitchen.
that there, my friends, is what knitting is all about, and what will keep me going through anything.