Friday, November 14, 2008

Falling short

Yesterday, I left work...well, late, again. But I left work and didn't have to take any home with me. It rained yesterday (again, again, always always again, and can't we just build a giant shunt in the sky to take some of this to the western states or something, because really - VA is pretty thoroughly soaked) and I foolishly did not look outside before leaving, and when standing in the doorway and faced with the torential rain, did not go inside and switch my short, light coat for my long raincoat, because I am apparently stupid. Also, I am allowed one trip out the door in the morning without my pups wailing for me to come back. If I come back in and then out again they cry because I have now broken the routine, and therefore they believe me contractually obligated to stay with them. Or something.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter because the real issue I had was that I was wearing dress shoes as always, and because those dress shoes were flats my pants were too long, and so the short version is my shoes got soaked, the bottom of my pants got soaked, and I spent the entire day with wet feet thinking about those Casbah socks at home that were so close to being done, and determined that when I got home I would change pants and then finish the socks. Then I would sit with my warm feet and feel accomplished. I imagined photographing the socks on my feet and posting the triumphant story on this beloved blog the next day.

Unfortunately...I had farther to go than I realized, and even though the SO picked up a frozen pizza, cooked it, brought it to me on the couch, and then took my plate away and put it in the dishwasher for me (he is so awesome and accomodating of the knitterly obsessions that possess me), even with all of that extra knitting hit 10 before I finished the toe, and I was forced to acknowledge that I did not have the brainpower left for kitchener stitch, and that I had better leave well enough alone before I really screwed something up.

So, alas, I put it down and went to bed, sulking a little that I did not get to wear my toasty socks, even though I had solved the cold feet issue in the meantime by sitting on the couch indian style so they would be tucked under me. Because somehow...putting on store-bought socks would have meant admitting defeat?


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