Not Showing This

I had a couple of free hours yesterday afternoon before the school board meeting.

I had options.

Responsible options.

Prepare for the gas station inspectors.

Write checks for sales tax payments.

Contact my attorney and work through corporate share transfers.

Review all of the budget documents one more time.

You know. Really exciting, fun stuff.

I did not do any of those things.

They sounded terrible.

Instead, I decided it was the perfect time to return to the backing of the mandala blanket I crocheted—so I can turn it into a wall hanging.

Because work life balance is important.

If you don’t know, I crocheted a beautiful, wonderfully handmade-looking mandala blanket. It’s intricate, colorful, and honestly kind of stunning. My mom doesn’t have room for it, so I decided to make it into a wall hanging.

Which meant I needed to learn how to sew.

Naturally.

So I ordered fabric and thread off Amazon, dug out my daughter’s sewing machine, and went to Walmart with my mom to buy bobbins, pins, and fabric shears—like a person who absolutely knows what she’s doing.

For context: I have never used a sewing machine before.

I mean, I know what they look like. I’ve seen other people use them. But I have never personally sat down and operated one.

But how hard could it be?

So, after measuring the fabric, I pinned the two pieces together and confidently moved to the sewing machine.

I watched a couple of YouTube videos on how to fill a bobbin and thread the machine.

And then—I was ready.

Except… I had pinned the fabric together the wrong way.

Because it turns out the sewing machine I have does not, in fact, accommodate 2.5 feet of fabric on both sides of the needle.

Who knew.

Thankfully, I realized this before fully committing to the mistake.

Fabric repinned—correctly this time—I returned to the machine.

And… it worked.

My “straight” seams were a little… interpretive. Slightly zigzag-adjacent. But they held. I successfully sewed two pieces of fabric into one and even hemmed the sides.

I was so proud.

Like—I was made for this.

So I took a couple of days off, because, if I’m being honest, figuring it out on top of figuring everything else out that’s happening in my world, on top of slight C-PTSD from all that happened this week last year, I didn't have it in me.

Yesterday, I came back ready to tackle the final step: sewing the pockets on the top and bottom so it can actually hang.

Ready. Set. Go.

Pinned. Perfect. Beautiful. Nailed it.

Sat down at the machine.

And immediately—

What the literal fuck.

Why was this so easy two days ago, and now everything is going wrong?

Everything.

I don’t even have the words for all of it.

It took at least five attempts to sew one edge. I broke a needle. Had to make an emergency trip to Walmart for a replacement. Came back. More problems.

Thread bunching. Fabric pulling. The machine doing things I did not ask it to do.

Eventually, I finished.

But what was supposed to be clean, beautiful seams are now… chaotic, very visible, slightly offensive tangles of thread on the side everyone will see.

I even took a photo of it.

I am absolutely not showing it to anyone.

And I am not ripping them out and trying again.

Because at this point, the sewing machine and I are not natural friends.

It reminds me of the times I tried to use Adobe Photoshop.

That software is not intuitive, and no matter how many YouTube videos I watched, I could never fully get it.

Same energy.

I suppose this is where it would be helpful to have a human being teach me how to do these things.

My mom has a lot of experience sewing. I’m sure she would happily sit down with me and show me.

But…

I’m a little stubborn.

And I like to figure things out on my own.

Even if it means creating something slightly crooked, mildly chaotic, and entirely mine.