Last night I looked at the blanket middle and I decided the only reasonable thing I could think at that point. I decided that I was never going to finish, and that the sooner I accepted that this blanket middle was what I was going to be knitting every evening for the rest of my life, the happier I would be. I gave up. I accepted my destiny. Resigned myself to boring little lace diamonds on garter stitch and let go. I stopped even trying to finish.
Ten minutes later I was done. It was like the blanket just wanted my humble admission that it was in charge and I was a mere puppet in the plan it had for our destiny, and as soon as I admitted I was powerless it released me. Tonight I start the border, and only other knitters will understand that after the monotony of knitting a big square, the idea of moving on to the border is as exciting as finding first a hundred dollar bill - and then a 50% off sale on your favourite yarn.
Things are looking up.