I've talked about it before
- that maternal sense of the seemingly obvious that I just can't see myself possessing - ever
. At New Year's, I could've used someone to tell me that I probably shouldn't have tried to pour liquid chocolate into my mouth while wearing the only white shirt that I actually owned and liked.
Right now, someone should've f***ing told me that I shouldn't try to untangle my knitting at 00.30 because odds are that I'll only make things worse. Which I did. And I hate picking up stitches. Hate
. Hate it even more than I hate beards and girls who play handball. Which is a lot.
Anyway, I'm knitting this
. Except I'm knitting it in red with a black skull. If it turns out nice, I'll post a picture.
Speaking of knitting, I'm slightly intimidated by the world of knitting blogs
. I like knitting, but those people are scary. I sort of suspect that they are the same people who have pregnancy blogs with countdowns, stretchmark-counts and talk about how much they tore,
even if knitting doesn't have quite the same need to know/nice to know
-factor (and that factor should be taken into consideration by real life people, too, especially at family dinners. I don't care how
you were in labour. No, really).
The point is, I don't want to turn into one of those people. Please let me know. I don't want to turn up with this
on my knitting needles.