Firstly, you simply must go see these.
I am in love with those little buggers. I want to make them by the dozen.
With my luck, and penchant for horror movies, they'll come to life, grow fangs, and gnaw me to death.
Sorry, I was attacked by a cricket last night, and may have PTSD.
It's not a laughing matter; even The Big Guy has conceded that bugs which ignore every other human on Earth seem to seek me out. A spider once jumped four feet to land on me. Damn thing cleared a puddle and everything.
But enough about my neuroses.
Or maybe not.
Because I have found fuel.
It's called lace.
And it is the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a fire for my OCD.
Exhibit A:
(excerpt from Cubist Sock, by Cookie A. Pub. in KnittingDaily.com)
Oh. See, my fingers get all tingly when I see all those stitches lining up so perfectly orderly!
And not in that Oh Crap I Think I'm Having A Stroke way.
Yes...gasoline on a fire.
Swallowtail.
This is next. Right after I finish these:
Good Lord Almighty.
The girl's a genius. And I am completely smitten by the way the ssk's and yo's and k2T's make little orderly triangles appear as if by magic.
It's magic!
Maybe it'll show up better on the blockers.
I'll try it once I've finished turning the heel. Only about 10 more rows.
This concludes today's discussion of Marissa's Neurotic Behaviour.
Stay tuned for tomorrow's dose, tentatively titled:
There Is Dust On My Bathroom Ceiling Light And I Can't Reach It, And Cannot Rest While It Is There. Send Help.
This may be a two part series; last night I dreamt the dust came to life, grew fangs and claws and was headed upstairs to get me.
Don't laugh- when I was last pregnant, I woke my husband up in the middle of the night and told him I'd leave him if he didn't pull the fridge out for me so I could clean behind it. He put me off for almost a week; I was a wreck. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. That Which Lurked In The Depths haunted me.
When he finally pulled it out and we saw what was there, I wanted to move.
But that night, after a major scrubbing session, All Was Right With The World, and I slept like a baby.
I know. You totally wish you were me.
