Met a knitter today!

What does it say about me when I get all excited to have another knitter come up to me, in a non-yarn-store setting?

I ride the light rail into downtown every day to work, and I'm knitting most days. I'm the only person I've ever seen do this. But this morning, I was working on a trusty sock (Interlacements Toasty Toes mid-calf socks. #2 of the pair, but has been languishing for 6 months or so) and someone came up to me!

Her: Are you knitting a sock?

Me: yes.

Her: Hey, I'm a knitter too! We're going on a trip so all my knitting is packed away right now. Your sock looks great! What is that yarn, is it Mountain Colors Bearfoot?

Excellent! She commented on how comfy and cute the sock looked and I told her the yarn was Interlacements toasty toes and she was so effusively nice I got all glowy inside. We didn't have much time (about 90 seconds) to talk as my train arrived, but, yay! I didn't feel so isolated and weird knitting on the commute today. Too bad she was traveling the other way.

Lately I've just had this obsessive need to knit. I wake up and knit, I knit on the train to work, I spend all day at work wishing I were knitting, then come home and knit. It's a little disturbing. I start resenting dinner and breakfast because it takes time out from knitting.

I was really excited to start work on new sock pattern I was messing around with and bust into the Socks that Rock I got at OFFF. That died quickly, after I realized the pattern I'd designed didn't look so hot and was a pain in the neck to knit. NO FUN. Kind of dampened the enthusiasm a bit.

I messed with the pattern a little and started another test sock, but it's not going so well either. So instead I abandoned it for a swatch. Fickle, I know.

Hey, at least it's Friday. Unfortunately the camellias REALLY need a trim this weekend or we won't be able to see out the front porch. I've got some other yard cleanup to do as well and the waste disposal has died on us. So this weekend will probably not be as knit-filled as I would like. Sulk.