In which I teach myself to knit …

I consider myself a fast learner. It’s one of the strengths I always mention in my job interviews, and the only time I didn’t prove myself was back in 2006 with my boss Douchebag Karen. Also, I’m ridiculously hard on myself if I don’t catch onto something within the first few tries, and once I’ve berated myself enough times, it’s like my brain catches on that the yelling will stop when it just gets it. Not the healthiest approach, I know, but it’s worked for me? Mostly?

Anyway, I recently had a wild hair up my ass to go buy knitting supplies from HellMart (JoAnn’s was closed). There’s a lot going on in my life right now – divorce, possibly moving in two months (multiple factors here), going to night shift, training on IVs, etc. – that doesn’t necessarily have direct action I can take to solve, so instead of falling into a paralysis, I take on more tasks than I can handle (if you look at my Instagram account, you’ll see I haven’t done a single day of Inktober) so I collapse in a heap on my bed at the end of my very long day. Plus, I already just recently changed my haircut and color, so it’s too soon to go that route.

As soon as I got home, I hopped onto my bed and opened up my new needles and three skeins of cheap yarn, thrilled to begin my journey into the world of knitting. My computer proudly displayed a video, declaring its intention to teach me, and I gleefully clicked “play.” Certainly, within a few moments, I’d be well on my way to creating an intricate scarf for my mother or a pair of manly mittens for my father. Or maybe even a little sweater to torture either Mushroom or Ramses? I was, of course, encouraged by how quickly I managed to master the art of a cast on – which I called a cast off for about an hour before I realized my error – and after nearly two hours of practicing that, I decided I was ready to learn how to actually knit.

Oh, Earlier in the Week Juj … you are adorable.

I’ve lost count of how many goddamn videos I have watched, trying to figure out how in the hell they do a knit stitch. I feel like what I created at the end of one looked like what a proud bowerbird would try to show his mate in an effort to convince her that he would be a good candidate for procreation, although the result of my labor would probably be an offensive comparison. My mom was very helpful in sending me a video of a very old woman going through everything suuuuuuper sloooowwwwwly, but my knitting is still … we shall say, subpar. I don’t even have any photographic evidence because I’ve undone my work every single time, either on purpose or otherwise.

Obviously, I need to practice, but dammit. I can’t yell at my hands enough to get them to do what I want them to do. But my mind is made up: I am going to conquer this shit and become a crafting maven, the envy of the fiber arts world. And then I’ll go onto woodworking. Oooh, and then screenprinting. I should stop now.

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