I’m stuck on this sock, and I just can’t seem to make myself knit on. And I know why now. It’s because of The Mistake. Way back at the beginning, just as I was about to start in past the toe working in the round, I screwed up where the provisional cast on lay, leaving a row of stitches that were simply much too large. And it shows. Big time. And instead of fixing it, I just knit on, insisting that it’d be fine.

It isn’t fine, and neither am I. I don’t want to finish a damaged sock, and I don’t want to rip all of my hard, flawed work out. Stalemate. So instead of knitting - anything - I’ve stuffed it into my bag and left it there to rot.

How shameful of me. How depressing.

I’m gonna have to rip back. Like, frog the whole bloody thing and start again. Only then will my knitting despair end. I can just start fresh and do it over, and all will be well again. At least, it will, once I dredge up the courage to do what I hate most - frogging it.

Ask anyone I know - I hate to frog things, whether it’s knitting or sewing or even crossword puzzles. If I screw up, I’d really rather either plow on anyway, insisting it’s a small, invisible mistake, or throw it out. I’m terrible. Some deep-seated fear of… starting over? I have no idea.

But I know that once I do it, I’ll set the yarn aside to let all that negative energy fade away, and then, suddenly, I’ll feel better. Lots better. It happened with the stole. Same exact problem, actually. Provisional cast on screwup. Maybe it’s because I /can’t crochet/. Anything. So instead of crocheting, I used the figure 8 method with another needle, and that was, like, an ubermistake. No, that wasn’t really the mistake, though I admit that the inflexibility of another needle verses the flexibily of stray yarn was a pain in the arse. The mistake was in not tightening up the bloody stitches lots, lots more before I began. That was the mistake.

May I learn from it the third time around.

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