Always and Forever
I'm sure you've all had those moments. Whether it's while writing a term paper or dozing through a boring class, there's always been a moment where you go "This is never going to end. I'm going to be stuck here forever, and there's nothing I can do about it."
I think the same thing applies to items and various tasks. For instance, it appears that I am fated to be the object of affection for all spiders within a three-mile radius. I killed two and found another already-dead in my bathroom over the course of the school year. A few weeks ago, I was sweeping one of the rooms I was cleaning; someone had already done the AC filter, so there were dust clumps all over the floor. So there I am, sweeping up the dust, reaching the broom under the bed for the last one and holy hell it ran at me. It was a four inch wolf spider. Monday, I went to clean a hair clump out of the sink, and it ran down the drain. My partner ran the water for about five minutes in an attempt to drown it. I returned a few minutes later to find the little bastard sitting in the bowl. Zombie spiders. Eurgh. (We killed it by pouring toilet bowl cleaner over it.) Even my mere presence has been enough to draw outdoor spiders out of their webs. Clearly this is my fate, but I am not ready to accept it yet.
Then, of course, there's yarn. When I was planning and designing Rivendell, I bought far too much yarn; I believe the grand total was six or seven skeins. (In my defense, I had nothing to base my estimations on, and I didn't want to run out midway.) The sweater itself took just under four. Then, in a stashbusting effort, I did Carly's Pinwheel Shawl with the remainder, which took another 2+. Finally, I did Molly's Rivendell sweater in an act of desperation. I was left with a tangerine-sized ball, which promptly went into my scrap box (with a relieved sigh). When I was home two weekends ago, I went digging in my stash for something else, and lo and behold, there were two more balls of the same exact yarn. Apparently my stash has become connected to the Rift, and I will never run out of that particular yarn and colorway. There will always be another ball.
Now? It appears I will spend the rest of my life embroidering tiny silver leaves (and eventually gold flowers) onto my Lothlorien sweater. I've been at it for quite a few hours total, accumulated today and yesterday, and I am still not done. (This task is not aided at all by my current headache, which is making it difficult for me to see straight.) It will come down to just me, metallic embroidery floss, and a wickedly sharp needle (and possibly a thimble), for hours on end, forever and ever and ever.
The leaves are darned pretty, though.
I think the same thing applies to items and various tasks. For instance, it appears that I am fated to be the object of affection for all spiders within a three-mile radius. I killed two and found another already-dead in my bathroom over the course of the school year. A few weeks ago, I was sweeping one of the rooms I was cleaning; someone had already done the AC filter, so there were dust clumps all over the floor. So there I am, sweeping up the dust, reaching the broom under the bed for the last one and holy hell it ran at me. It was a four inch wolf spider. Monday, I went to clean a hair clump out of the sink, and it ran down the drain. My partner ran the water for about five minutes in an attempt to drown it. I returned a few minutes later to find the little bastard sitting in the bowl. Zombie spiders. Eurgh. (We killed it by pouring toilet bowl cleaner over it.) Even my mere presence has been enough to draw outdoor spiders out of their webs. Clearly this is my fate, but I am not ready to accept it yet.
Then, of course, there's yarn. When I was planning and designing Rivendell, I bought far too much yarn; I believe the grand total was six or seven skeins. (In my defense, I had nothing to base my estimations on, and I didn't want to run out midway.) The sweater itself took just under four. Then, in a stashbusting effort, I did Carly's Pinwheel Shawl with the remainder, which took another 2+. Finally, I did Molly's Rivendell sweater in an act of desperation. I was left with a tangerine-sized ball, which promptly went into my scrap box (with a relieved sigh). When I was home two weekends ago, I went digging in my stash for something else, and lo and behold, there were two more balls of the same exact yarn. Apparently my stash has become connected to the Rift, and I will never run out of that particular yarn and colorway. There will always be another ball.
Now? It appears I will spend the rest of my life embroidering tiny silver leaves (and eventually gold flowers) onto my Lothlorien sweater. I've been at it for quite a few hours total, accumulated today and yesterday, and I am still not done. (This task is not aided at all by my current headache, which is making it difficult for me to see straight.) It will come down to just me, metallic embroidery floss, and a wickedly sharp needle (and possibly a thimble), for hours on end, forever and ever and ever.
The leaves are darned pretty, though.