The sock that almost was..

As you read previously, I did my first sock this week.
And this morning, I finished it.

Yup. Woohoo and all that jazz. But before anyone says congrats or any bullshit like that, let me enlighten you.

As I was grafting the toe, for you non knitters.. As I was stitching the seam of the toe together, the final act of completing the sock, my stitches fell off the needles.

I put them back on, and finished the sock, but I ended up with this loop, that I spent 4 hours trying to get rid of.
Finally, I decided that there was no way I was going to be able to get rid of this loop, and I ripped it out to the start of the toe.
then I sat there trying to figure out how to get my stitches on the appropriate needles.

Once again after much frustration I could not figure it out.

I was not willing to hand it off to my mother, because whats the point of me trying to learn this if I end up handing it off to someone else every time I screw up.

Now, I guess when I am all menstrual and all that, I shouldn't work on anything more difficult than a scarf of garter stitch (which happens to be the only project I'm going to work on the rest of the day). Because I'm crying over a damn sock.

A weeks worth of work, a sock I was proud of, I mean honestly proud. It fit me perfectly, it was beautiful, and thanks to something that was no fault of my own it got screwed up beyond my skill level of being able to save it.

And right now, I have absolutely no desire to try again.
I'm done. I gave it a go, and I have not yet been lured into the world of socks. Perhaps someday, but right now it's not on my list of things I want to experience again.

I know I'll suffer from Second Sock Syndrome, so if I'm already aware of that, the thought of doing a grand total of 3 socks of exactly the same thing is so beyond unappealing it's not even funny.

Not even Strawberry Ice cream can save this disaster.