Perfect stitches evade me. I unraveled the ripple stitch scarf a dozen times then finally gave up entirely and went back to the hat knitter, disgusted beyond belief by the uneven edge and fuck-up-ability of the straight needle nightmare. I may try to put some decorative yo's in the hat, but I'm not promising myself anything. The last time I regarded the 5 or 6 inches of ripple stitch, I thought, that's kind of cool. I just need to keep my stitches loose....then, oh, look at that mess. FUCK IT! I wound it back into a ball and got out the size 6 hat knitter and started 1x1 rib stitch. Something I can at least do competently.
I've been off the Chantix over a week and I feel...different, anyhow. I am sort of afraid of that shit. I plan on not smoking two packs a day. I wish I didn't plan on smoking at all.
I need to get a small errand to the CU done today, since it's Monday and all. And then...I need to call my mother. But that's angst for another blog. Haven't talked to her in a couple weeks. If anyone had predicted this a year ago I wouldn't have believed it.