It Is A Paradox!

I get "thirty minutes" of "work-free" lunch each day. I sit in a conference room, eat my lunch, and knit. The ten minutes I actually get to spend knitting and eating are the most relaxing and also the most re-energizing ten minutes of my day.

Relaxing and energizing. At the same time. Who knew? Well, we all did, actually.

As I was sitting there, the art teacher came in and looked at the yarn in my lap.
"Oh! You're crocheting!" she proclaims.
I delicately explain the difference between knitting and crocheting -- which she doesn't understand, so I must repeat it. An art teacher who can't tell the difference between two needles and one hook? I am concerned about the artistic future of America's children.

She then proceeded to say something like "gosh, you have so much time on your hands. Must be nice."
To which I replied, "I have to make this time, and it's very important to me." My commute to and from work is an hour each way, after all, and as far as my mom knows, I don't knit while driving.

She then asserted "someday you'll be married and have children, and then you won't have time to knit anymore and you'll have to get up at four in the morning just to do the laundry." And then she patted me on the shoulder. The patronizing tone, the invasion of my personal space, and the implication that I have no real life until my husband and my children take it over and prevent me from doing anything else I love? Not cool, lady. Not cool at all. On so many levels. No thanks for ruining my lunch. And my relaxing/energizing knitting ten minutes that I so carefully carve out of my busy schedule. I'll ask my domestic partner and my cat to suck out more of my soul before I see you again, just to make you feel better about yourself.

The art teacher has no soul. And doesn't know the difference between a needle and a hook. The art teacher. So sad.

A Little Slice of Heaven

So, although the Atlanta area has a rather good number of LYSes, I have never been particularly happy with any of them, tho' I'd settled for a big rambling house the next 'burb over. But it did feel like settling. Lots of pretty yarns, but also lots of ugly yarns. Several rooms of fun fur. And not particulary friendly to anyone under the age of menopausal. Weird vibe, in general. But whatever, I bought yarn there and ignored the vibe as best as possible.

Until Monday.

On Sunday night, I played around online looking at pretty yarns, and discovered another option. I went Monday after work and the place quickly became my new most-favorite yarn store ever. This place is awesome. No fun fur in sight. And the staff is incredibly friendly and helpful. And the owner (whom I didn't meet) is a rockin' twentysomething with impeccable Blue-Sky-Alpaca taste. And she was having a sale. So I win.