Last Tuesday, though, I hit a very rough patch at the beauty parlor. It was a marathon four and a half hour ordeal and for a low maintenance woman like myself, this constitutes an evening in Hell. (And my hairdresser wonders why I come in ever twelve weeks rather than every six? Who has the fortitude to withstand this much primping?!?)
At the hairdressers, I felt the pull of La Digitessa and threw myself into her completely. Hours later all I had to show for it were about 22 rows.
22 Rows. And into each and every row I grafted a misery so potent I couldn't look at the sock for days without revisiting it. I hated on the pattern and the yarn and the sock itself.
And then I got over it, though I don't have the photographic proof. And there was glee! I should have one sock done tomorrow, with pictures to follow on Wednesday, provided I don't derail again.