Pre-script: As of last night, my total percentage of weight lost in 2008 was brought up to 2.86%. Yahoo!
Here's a little story from a few weeks ago that got lost in the holiday shuffle. Non-knitters, you may find this a bit shocking. Knitting devotees, you'll know exactly how I felt.
Before setting out for Oklahoma for a snow-dusted down-home Christmas, my parents and brother swung by our apartment with some champagne to say Cheers! and wish us well. Our bags were packed, our ride to the airport arranged, and everything was fine. We had a little drink and watched the clock tick away. When it was time, we picked up and loaded up and headed for the airport. My brother drove us, so we didn't have to pay a cab.
We waited in an impressively short line to check in, considering it was the Friday before Christmas. Check in went smoothly, and as we walked away from the self-check-in machine two bags lighter I thought eagerly to the time when we would be through the security line and seated waiting for the plane with knitting. in. hand. oh. sweet. jeebus. where. the. hell. is. my. knitting bag?!
It was at home. In the confusion of people and partying, I'd left my carefully packed holiday knitting bag in the middle of the living room floor. My heart liquified and ran down into my legs, which became very heavy, and I stopped walking. Senor looked at me with that face that says, "Oh no, what did you forget that's going to cause big problems?" I answer, "My knitting is at home." "Can you live without it?" he asked. "Yes. No. I'm taking a cab home to get it." Since we were already checked in and had almost two hours before we had to be at the gate, there was plenty of time. I ran out and caught a cab.
Now, please understand, we live walking distance from the airport. It would be a long walk, but we could do it. We live to the soundtrack of take offs and landings; it's a short drive.
But it's not free.
The cab driver took me home and waited while I ran upstairs. Then he drove me back as I hugged my yarn tightly. He said I seemed relieved. Dude, you have no idea.
So what was my knitting worth? $30 cash. Taking into consideration the inconvenience factor and the I'm-a-Dumbass quotient, it felt like $50 (then again, add in the relief factor, and it felt like someone had just given me $50, so I think we broke even overall).