A long time ago, I’d sworn to learn how to manage my time more effectively.
I’d keep up with my writing load, follow up on new opportunities, send stuff out for birthdays, keep the house passably clean, exercise, and finish all of my gifts BEFORE whatever gift-giving event arrived.
Hah! That didn’t happen.
Last week, I started the throw-blanket I’d meant to start closer to the beginning of December. This particular pattern relied on increasing and decreasing stitches. It resulted in the nifty pattern pictured above.
I was a little dubious when I first saw the pattern, since a) my procedural issues get in the way of any repetitive task requiring more than two steps, b) although I CAN count, I lose count ridiculously easily, due to my short term memory/coding problems, and c) knitting off of an actual pattern is exceedingly difficult for me when there are distractions around.
My husband, being the charming guy he is, doesn’t help matters when he’s in a mischievous mood.
At least once during the fabrication of this project, he started counting while I was trying to count stitches, which would mix anyone up. One time, though, one time he got me good.
It was towards the end of the project, and I was approaching the last ten stitches. He’d been doing his best to distract me by waving his fingers around in my periphery vision or poking me.
Did I mention I have trouble tuning background movements out? If not, I do. It’s very frustrating.
Miraculously, I had made it to one-hundred-thirty-something stitches, despite his constant efforts at distraction, when…I lost count.
“NO!!” I hollered, before dropping my knitting and burying my face in my hands. “I was SO CLOSE! SO. CLOSE.”
He pulled back in surprise, his laugh disconcerted. “You lost count?”
“YES. And it’s YOUR FAULT!” I picked up the yarn and thrust it at him. “YOU count the stitches now!”
He refused. The jerk.
However, he stopped messing with me until I’d finally finished the throw. There’s that, at least.
This just means I’ll have to get back at him one of these days. Maybe I’ll sneak up on him while he’s playing one of his horror games or something.