Self-consciousness is the bane of human existence.
Our capacity to blush is evidence of this. An unfortunate few are cursed with an uncontrollable blush reflex, such that any time they do or say, or even think, anything even slightly embarassing, they turn bright red, registering their discomfort visibly on the world.
I'm not cursed with this affliction. But I am still prone to excessive self-awareness and self-castigation. I've spent days re-playing moments that I wish had never happened. Internally, invisibly, uncomfortably. If I were a blusher, I might be a much brighter shade of pink most of the time.
I wish I were more like those people who find their own questionable behavior less worthy of attention. Accept that life is full of awkward moments and worse, and make them just not so interesting. I do get better, and someday I may just live fully in the moment, accepting whatever less than gracious acts I commit. Because they will continue to happen, whether I approve of myself or not.
You may be wondering why this topic is coming up at all. Well, I'm not going to share all of the reasons. But I am sharing, above, the yarn I unapologetically bought, breaking my six month ban on new yarns. It was supposed to last until Rhinebeck, but I have been longing to make Akoya since it was published. And in all my lots of sweater yarn, I didn't have anything for it. So I treated myself to this Blue Sky alpaca silk.
Colorway: Blush.