Let's at least start with the good - these are the soles of my first pair of fairisle socks.
The other good is that I fired up the embroidery machine and did this to my dressing gown.
Our other 'ugly' contender is rather more annoying. My beloved Minnie the Minx jumper.
Me: "Yep, knew that."
IMH: "So why then do you keep leaving it til almost the end before trying things on?"
IMH: "Is it because you are reinforcing the schema you have built around your self-image since 2003?"
Me: "Woah, getting a bit personal there."
...and so on.
As a rough estimate I would say it was 20% too big. Maybe 25%. That's a lot of "too" to the "big". Fuck.
So that just leaves the 'not bad' which is the finished Fairisle Jumper.
I've felt a bit odd the last 36 hours or so. I went to my assessment for therapy on the NHS yesterday. Going over all the back history is always a downer - and this was the whole back history back to childhood, not just the divorce stuff - and then she told me I did need therapy but there was a three month waiting list. It's already been a three month wait to get the assessment. It's just another set back. "Just". It's put me off my stride though. I had a couple if dates lined up from Match but I cancelled them as I felt too stressed to try and be normal in front of anyone. I was thinking a lot about Pooch again and also about "Religion for Atheists" which I am reading at the moment. Alain de Botton talks about the innate desire to have someone look after us, whether it is a god or a person. Not necessarily like a mother, although there are "Mary" figures in most religions, but more like having someone to listen to you and tell you it will be ok. Thank god for Angry Kitty.