An exercise in frustration

Tonight has been completely annoying.

I was thrilled to get home after work. It was Friday and I had nothing I HAD to do, but had lots of things I wanted to do. I decided to start quilting the top of a baby quilt I am working on for a co-worker, so I set to do that right after I got home. My right foot was starting to really bother me, so I popped a few pain pills and got to work.

The machine quilting started to suck early. My stitches were irregular, my thread kept breaking, and I couldn't keep my seams straight enough for my taste. I tore out the first bit I did, but tried again. Finally, I was in a semi-decent groove and then my sewing machine needle broke. Any quilter worth her salt has extra needles on hand, and I'm pretty sure I do, but I couldn't find them for the life of me. I spent about two hours looking everywhere I could think of - and reach - and still no dice. Meanwhile my foot is still killing me. Imagine a foot cramp in the arch of your foot that returns every minute or two. Good times.

The swearing just kept getting worse and worse. It was a toss-up between whether I was cursing more about my inability to machine quilt and how shitty I was feeling.

And I still couldn't find the bloody needles. I found lots of other stuff I had misplaced, but not the needles.

Oh well. I finally gave up, got a couple of scoops of ice cream, unrolled (and fondled) my new jellyroll and settled in to watch the cheesy Miss America Countdown to the Crown show on TLC. And my foot is finally starting to feel better, thank goodness.