Just because I'm avoiding Dad's quilt (with pretty reasonable success), doesn't mean I won' get there.
It's not even the excrutiating technical minutia of the current stage that's putting me off, it's the harrowing behavioural comparison that I'm having a hard time dealing with.
I don't know why exactly, but exhibiting such overt Eric-like traits seems to be interrupting my concentration.
Not in a bad way, rather I make myself laugh at critical moments, thus causing me to fuck it all up.
Just consider how many little yellow circles I have to machine sew around (buttonhole/blanket stitch- aaarrrgh) before I can even think about moving on to the next stage....
I have slaved away, and I'm not even half done.
Simone doesn't handle repetition well.
She's OK with routine though.
Go figure.
In order to give you a glimpse of my mental disarray and agony, I made a mental note of my thought process during just one circley bit.
"OK, let's get this done.
Right. Fuck. Fucking thread. Shit. OK. I'll start here. Yes.
OK. Fuck, did I change the foot? Where's the foot? Poppy?! You shit little cat, where's the...oh never mind, sorry, here it is. Sorry Pop.
OK. Right.
Well this isn't too bad. Why did I put it off?
Oh fuck. Damn it. Fucking thing, that's so crooked. Maybe no-one will notice if I get an all over quilt design.
Shit,shit, it's August, I'm running out of time.
I need less coffee.
Alright,time to turn the corner. Fuck!
Why did I sew those bits together already? Idiot.
OK, got the hang of it now. Turn, turn, turn, oh fuck, that sucks. Shit. Cunt of a thing.
I hate this.
Yeah, that'll do.
Turn, damn, OK, no, that's OK. Shit.
*giggle*snort*
Nearly done. Cocksucker. You absolute cocksucking son of a monkey whore!
No, no, noooo. Fuck.
Got it.Yay. Bloody hell.
That sucked."
This is followed by a moment of smugness and then all too quickly by deflation once I notice the next 100 circles waiting for me to mentally injure myself on.
Those sneaky little yellow circley pricks.
Well, there you have it, you can see what kind of energy I'm imbuing this thing with.
Hence my general discomfort when people exclaim over the sweetness of my creations when I issue them.
Little do they know.
You can also see that mentally at least, I am certainly my father's daughter.
And fucking proud of it too.
Tischler! Tischler! Tischler!
Fuck! Shit ! Cock!
2 comments:
OK, this made me laugh more than any other entry EVER. Seriously, tears, laughing out loud. I KNOW THE FEELING and I am so glad that your thought processes are the same as mine, except replace Poppy with Dawnie and you have it exact.
I'll have you know that I've now done over 50 more of the pricks , but I still have 49 to go.
What the hell was I thinking anyway?
Post a Comment