It’s December 21st, in case you were wondering, and I’m flying out tomorrow to visit my folks in Reno for the holidays.  I’m halfway through both sleeves of this sweater, still need to knit the collar and pockets, sew on buttons, weave in ends and block the damn thing before a reasonable enough hour tonight so that I can maybe get a couple hours of sleep in some sad effort to reboot my system out of this insane I-can-knit-a-sweater-for-someone-else-before-christmas illness.  In other words: I’ve exited the realm of sort of crazy and entered the realm of bat shit, there’s no turning back now, crazy.  Madness.


Last night, as I was staying up way too late on account of my mental problems, I decided to try on the sweater, because jeezus, it looks huge.  I immediately freaked out because the thing is down past my ass and I could probably fit another one of my arms through the sleeves.  Panic set in because I need to give this to my friend in about 36 hours and there was no way I could fix any of these issues.  Then I remembered that I’m 4’10” (4’11” on a good day) and of course this wasn’t going to fit me.  Seriously, you’re looking at a genius right here.

I’m still slightly panicking today because what if it doesn’t fit her either?  What if she hates it?  What if this was the worst idea ever and oh my god, is that a dropped stitch?!!?  If you know me, I’m pretty much freaking out all the time about stupid things.  I know I do it and I know that it’s completely irrational.  But I won’t stop freaking out until someone can prove to me through scientific reasoning (bonus points if you bust out polynomial equations) that I’m freaking out for no reason.  So I headed to the yarn store where I work, hoping someone there with more experience knitting sweaters for average sized people would talk some sense into me.  And they did.  The sweater fit one of the women (of similar size to the recipient) there and so now here I am, eating a grilled cheese sandwich, click clacking on the keyboard, and talking myself up some big game, like I’m a hot shot.  I know what’s up.  I knew I had it in the bag the whole time.  I’ve got aaaaaaall night to knit this puppy up.  ha. ha. ha?  gulp.