If you’re the kind a person to get a wild hair up your ass and decide to design something, oh…say, a baby blanket, and even though you’ve only designed one other thing before in your entire knitting life and that just so happened to be a baby blanket, and even though your new design is built on the same shape as your previous design, you’re wanting the two to look completely different, wanting the new design to reflect your growth as a knitter…
~You may be tempted to chart your design at the same time you’re writing it out long-hand;
~~And as you’re charting, you may just want to get a little ahead of your long-hand instructions;
~~~And as you get a little ahead in your charting, you may just want to finish up an entire repeat. And because your new design is knit from the center out, your design and pattern increase need to incorporate your increases, and you decide to start knitting it;
~~~~And once you finish up your entire first repeat, you might, in your infinite laziness then decide to make a gagillion xeroxed copies of your chart, so with further repeats you don’t have to rechart everything, you just have to cut and tape. Which, in your mind, is a stroke of brilliance;
~~~~~And in that stroke of brilliance you just might fail to realize that the first part of the design pattern that you’ve made a gagillion copies of, the one you’re so proud of and patting yourself on the back about is only a partial pattern because you were incorporating the pattern WHILE building up enough stitches;
~~~~~~And in your infinite oblivion, and general cocky contentedness, you may continue to fail to notice, even after knitting up what you’ve written so far, and inviting others into your dumbassery by asking for volunteers to check math.
~~~~~~~And then it hits you. Square in the fucking head. DOH! Man, I’m a dumbass!
Learn from my mistakes, my friends, learn from my mistakes.