Cold turkey
Dear reader, I have a confession to make. I'm addicted to yarn.
Like so many knitters before me (and many more will come after me, I'm sure), I've fallen victim of substance abuse and, as I confront this problem, I cannot but wonder at how my yarn habit as spiralled out of control without I every taking proper notice.
The first symptom of just how serious my addiction had become was that I started running out of places to hide my stash. Yes, I'm using the word hide instead of keep, because, as I look back, I'm forced to admit that, as my stash grew into unseemly proportions, I unwittingly started making sure I kept its size unknown to everyone (including myself) by keeping it in appropriately discreet places.
The second symptom was that every time I went through my stash looking for more yarn for my current project, I always found yarn that I'd completely forgotten I'd bought, usually in large amounts, because my drug of choice happens to be enough-yarn-to-knit-a-sweater-plus-some-more-to-make-sure-I-don't-run-out. I may have enough yarn to knit as many sweaters as I'll need to wear for the rest of my life, although I surely hope not, because I'd like to be able to buy some more in the distant future.
I say distant future because I've decided to go completely cold turkey, and not buy one single skein more, until my yarn stash has been considerably depleted. This means, not buying more yarn even if I run out of yarn for a specific project (an excuse I've often used in the past to buy enough yarn to finish the project and some more for a sweater). Instead of resorting to buying more yarn, I'll from now on adapt the pattern in order to incorporate yarn I already have, even if it is a different colour and it knits to a different gauge.
In case you suffer from the same problem and find the method I've used in order to correctly measure the seriousness of my substance abuse problem of some use. This is what I've done: a little accounting. I say little, because it is indeed quite insignificant when compared to the accounting done at the average corporation. To be more precise, I've done a spreadsheet with all the yarn and other knitting supplies (including needles, notions, books, etc.) I've bought in the past years. I've then added the cost per year (to check for trends, also known as prepare myself for a scare) and computed the grand total. The use of the word grand is not to be taken lightly here. Then I've let myself be very awed by the result.
Like so many knitters before me (and many more will come after me, I'm sure), I've fallen victim of substance abuse and, as I confront this problem, I cannot but wonder at how my yarn habit as spiralled out of control without I every taking proper notice.
The first symptom of just how serious my addiction had become was that I started running out of places to hide my stash. Yes, I'm using the word hide instead of keep, because, as I look back, I'm forced to admit that, as my stash grew into unseemly proportions, I unwittingly started making sure I kept its size unknown to everyone (including myself) by keeping it in appropriately discreet places.
The second symptom was that every time I went through my stash looking for more yarn for my current project, I always found yarn that I'd completely forgotten I'd bought, usually in large amounts, because my drug of choice happens to be enough-yarn-to-knit-a-sweater-plus-some-more-to-make-sure-I-don't-run-out. I may have enough yarn to knit as many sweaters as I'll need to wear for the rest of my life, although I surely hope not, because I'd like to be able to buy some more in the distant future.
I say distant future because I've decided to go completely cold turkey, and not buy one single skein more, until my yarn stash has been considerably depleted. This means, not buying more yarn even if I run out of yarn for a specific project (an excuse I've often used in the past to buy enough yarn to finish the project and some more for a sweater). Instead of resorting to buying more yarn, I'll from now on adapt the pattern in order to incorporate yarn I already have, even if it is a different colour and it knits to a different gauge.
In case you suffer from the same problem and find the method I've used in order to correctly measure the seriousness of my substance abuse problem of some use. This is what I've done: a little accounting. I say little, because it is indeed quite insignificant when compared to the accounting done at the average corporation. To be more precise, I've done a spreadsheet with all the yarn and other knitting supplies (including needles, notions, books, etc.) I've bought in the past years. I've then added the cost per year (to check for trends, also known as prepare myself for a scare) and computed the grand total. The use of the word grand is not to be taken lightly here. Then I've let myself be very awed by the result.
Comments
Post a Comment