I gotta say, I wasn't a fan of this one. Crocheting seemed like it'd be an easy enough challenge. Get some string, bug Stef for some pointers, and bingo-bango- challenge completed right? Wrong. All today's challenge did was reinforce the fact that I am terrible at certain things. The kind of terrible that you cant fully recover from. Things like singing, throwing a football, and being able to spell the word diarrhea; keep my inability to crochet company in my list of "things I can not do".
Everything was in order; Stef was teaching me what techniques she knew, and I had the entire afternoon to fidget with yarn in hopes of creating a crafty scarf or sweater or whatever people even make when they decide to crochet. Taking what know-how Stef blessed me with; I tried my luck crocheting a small bracelet, arguably the most simple thing to make. Unfortunately, it became painfully clear that I was not meant for the yarn and hook life within seconds of fumbling. Stef would explain what it was that I was trying to accomplish, and my mind understood and agreed...but my hands, my dumb stupid hands had decided on a completely new agenda all together. They felt it best to fumble and fidget in response to my brain's directions. I knew what I was doing, but I must have overestimated my level of dexterity. I would tell my hands "Hook 1, then swoop. Hook 2 and swoop. Hook 2 again and swoop, and repeat" but then my hands were all "Hey, lets turn ourselves inside out and cramp up!"
It was miserable, but at least Stef seemed to enjoy herself while she watched me struggle and curse the null-minded fingers I was born with. After about 40 minutes of crushing any hope of become the crafty crocheter I'd never dreamed of being, Stef offered to finish the second half of my bracelet (I couldn't say yes fast enough). About a minute and a half later, her portion was complete and what was left of my ego was effortlessly crushed.
Whatever, crocheting isn't my life. It doesn't define me. I still have value...Right?
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