Words cannot express

Hey, remember how I just showed you the lovely purple shawl I'm working on for my mom? Here's what it looks like currently.

I love Olias, my little trouble cat, very much, but he really tests my patience sometimes. He did this. I couldn't even take a picture of what this mess of yarn and knitting looked like when I came home. I have a two-story townhome, and the yarn started downstairs and went all the way upstairs into one of the bedrooms. It was wound around the couch, around some of the dining room chairs, and around the banister. It was wound around the legs of my sewing table. I had to (I am sobbing internally as I write this) cut the yarn in some places, because I don't even know how he got it in all the places he did. If I was a paranoid person, I'd think someone came into my place and arranged the yarn, because it was that ridiculous.

I don't know how much of the yarn is salvageable, and I don't know if any of the knitting I'd finished was ripped out. I can't even look at it anymore, so for now, it will go in a drawer, where, really, it should have been in the first place. I made the mistake of leaving it in a bag on my dresser, where Olias was able to scoop it out and begin his decoration of my place.

Knitting = 0, Olias =3

Really, though. I love him. I just wish he would stop destroying my shit.