This Olympic knitting is a whole new experience, isn’t it?
First, there’s the pressure to finish on time. The deadline looms before me. I hate deadlines. I guess this type of pressure isn’t all that new of an experience, now that I think of it.
But even worse than the pressure is the boredom of working on a single project. Monogamy. I’m all for it in a marriage, but in knitting? Not so much.
Don’t get me wrong – I love this sock and the pattern is just enough of a challenge to force me to pay attention – but I want to knit something else. The Cable Moss Vest or the Everyday Cardi or the Seraphim Shawl. But my inner voice, my type A personality, keeps saying:
Must finish Olympic Socks first.
Meanwhile, the other voices in my head (shut up! you know you have voices in your head, too) are cursing my parents and genetics and DNA for giving me such big honking feet.