I started a pair of socks last night. To be honest, I had wanted to start them a while ago, but there were... afghans... in the way. I've had a skein of Kureyon sock yarn sitting in my stash for more than 2 years, waiting for a pattern that suited the long color drags. I picked out the pattern the moment it was published in Knitty--Longitudinal--and spent the next 2 weeks hunting for my 1's. Turns out that they were in my little brothers hat. So I had to finish the hat. And I did. But I had so much on my needles that I was uncomfortable with the prospect of starting something new.
Obviously that sentiment wore off, because I haven't finished anything but that hat (and the other hat). Les Miserables is sitting next to me, but I really really don't want to work on it right now. Wakame is still in the tub, waiting for me to pick it up again. There's this bunny rabbit on my book shelf with a tapestry needle through its nose, one ear attaches, and two limbs sitting next to it. I'm pretty sure that somewhere in my tub 'o projects is a pair of mittens that are complete save for their thumbs and I know there's a set of gloves that is missing 3 fingers.
Basically the last thing I should be doing right now is starting something new. So I need to finish this quickly. It can't go into the tub and languish until I deign to reach in and accidentally pull it from the depths. So I finished the first sock this morning. I grafted 90-ish stitches together and cast on the second sock shortly thereafter. But something nifty happened. Somehow.
I don't usually worry about matching self-striping yarn. This is because I am lazy and because I'm usually making things for myself. So when I started these guys, I thought to myself, "at least it's a pattern where matching socks isn't really the point." And so I cast on in yellow. And so I bound off in yellow. The socks, barring some knots disrupting the color scheme (NOOOOOROOOOO! How your knots anger me!) will match perfectly.
It is also worth noting that I am incredibly bad at taking pictures of socks on my feet, so the likelihood that those will exist depends highly on sheer luck or my husband's yet undiscovered photography skills.