Dear Unfinished Business,
You are like an exclamation halted in mid-sentence; it's something that should be followed through, because it had impetus and started off so well. You are like having trimmed just eight of ten fingernails; it's something that needs to be finished, because it would just be annoying to be walking around with two longer fingernails. You are like waking up in the middle of a really good dream. Damn it, just go back to sleep and continue the dream; except you're fully awake already.
I have some unfinished business. I cannot stand that they are incomplete, but I just cannot bring myself to finish them. I started to knit a pair of beautiful Viking cabled socks last summer. It's fun to knit socks in the summer because the project is short (supposedly), the yarn is lightweight (usually cotton and very thin), and they travel well (a little baggie will do). Well, it turns out that the cables are complicated, and it takes a lot of concentration to not make mistakes. It turns out that knitting a large piece of garment in simple stitches is much easier than knitting this pair of socks, because it is impossible to multitask with it. I didn't even make it past the heel.
I have been knitting for a decade. During that time, I made sweaters, hats, vests, teddy bears, shawls, mittens, scarves, socks, and even leg warmers. I had this sort of indescribable obsession with knitting; seeing rows and rows of neat stitches gave me a joy that only people with OCD can understand. Then I stopped, cold turkey. I started reading again, something I haven't done in years (why, you ask? because I was knitting). So far, I have read 9 1/2 books this year. Notice that 1/2? Well, it's that book in the picture up there.
Critically acclaimed by literary reviewers, yet not so well-loved by the general populace, this book was a hard nut (for me) to crack. DH loved it. He said it is very well-written and expresses certain sentiments in ways that few writers can put into words. It took me forever to read half the book. Nothing really kept me wanting to go back. Finally, I gave in and began another book. And then another. Now, it is back on my nightstand again, because I really want to just finish it. It has been sitting there for 3 weeks. Unopened, untouched.
I feel like I am at a crossroads. Do I finish that pair of socks that I have absolutely no inclination to finish, because it means taking time away from something else I now love to do more? Or do I just waste all that time I spent knitting what of it I have? Do I waste more time reading a book I have not thus far enjoyed? Or do I just waste all that time I spent reading it and move on to another book that is fulfilling for me? I am really torn, because either way, time is wasted somewhere, somehow. Maybe I just have to get past the heel, and maybe I just have to get past the part about the cerulean warbler, and it may be smooth sailing to the end. Maybe.
But until then, these two items just sit and wait. They will continue to wait for me as I try so very hard to find good reason to finish them. Perhaps I should just count my blessings and recognize that I actually have the luxury to choose to complete them or not, since there are plenty of other things that leave me no such choice. I cannot exactly clean Tucker's tank halfway. Or put off making dinner or cleaning the house. Or leave this post...