Deep Sense of Foreboding

*looks around shiftily*

I'm searching for evil things lurking in dark corners, which have every intention of jumping out, grabbing me and winding me up into a gigantic ball of yarn before smuggling me off to some small sweatshop somewhere on an unknown continent where they force me to knit pink lace for the rest of my life.

OK, so that's a little over dramatic, but something's not good. I haven't been well recently (yes, I know. I really need to have the tonsils out. I have a pre-op appointment in a couple of weeks (although this won't be happening until Oct.)). Not feeling well makes me rather un-inventive, so I've been knitting things like socks, which I could knit in my sleep if I had to, which may have actually happened once or twice, but I'm straying again. Anyway, I figured it was a good chance to get a boring gauge swatch out of the way, since that's pretty much mechanical straight knitting which doesn't require much brain power. So, I got out the yarn, picked out the needles it says to use on the yarn and...

got gauge.

Then I promtly fainted. Honestly. I knit a 5 inch swatch, measured pre-washing, washed, dried, measured again and I'll be bound if I didn't get gauge on the first try. True gauge. No stretching, no pulling, no half stitches, no wishful thinking. I got gauge. Theoretically, I should be jumping for joy, but it's too good to be true. As a severily cynical and jaded person, I don't trust it. It's Gauge's new way of playing with my mind. It wants to lull me into thinking I'm on the smooth road to sucess before biting me in the butt, hard.

This is just to let Gauge know, your evil plan has backfired. I'm now prepared for the worst. Muhahahahahaha!

After the tonsils, I may need to seek out psychiatric help, don't you think?