Downhill

Let the hate flow through you...
(Alternate caption:
I wish I had been the victim of a Jedi Mind Trick)

I got to work late because not only do Lace Patterns Hate Me, but Lace Weight Yarn does as well.

In fact, it hates me so much that it would rather - in a fit of disgust at my prideful, show-offy display of KiPping (Knit in Public) - jump out of my coat pocket as I'm getting on the bus than stay with me like good, obedient yarn. It would rather roll downhill in the wind and drizzle between indifferent commuters' legs all the way down to the Max rails almost fifty yards away.

And of course I wouldn't know about said AWOL fiber until the bus driver brings it to my attention as I am about to sit down in my usual seat. Then I would have to run out of the bus, hands scrambling to gather up the nearly-invisible rouge yarn, wind a sloppy ball as I dart between those stupidhead indifferent (though now chuckling) commuters' legs and wait for the Red Line to MOVE IT ALREADY because the end of my ball is under its metal wheels. And I would have to watch the bus driver give up on me and drive away.

Finally, I would have to dart onto the next available bus to get away from the amused glances of those Witnesses to My Heaping Serving of Humble Pie so that I can sulk in the seclusion of a different stop, bag full of damp, tangled lace weight -- sad and diminished, like my ego.

I strongly suspect that this shawl won't be done in time for tomorrow.