“Sure!” says my brain. “The edging you’ve worked out in your head for this baby blanket will absolutely work!”
My brain starts using the voice of that one childhood friend. You know the one I’m talking about. Your parents can’t quite tell you not to be friends, because s/he never does anything wrong, exactly. But you do seem to get a statically significant larger amount of trouble whenever you spend time with him/her.
Got the voice? Let us continue.
My brain wheedles (in the voice of my own personal Eddie Haskell), “So what if you’re going to have to learn three separate new techniques in order to get this to work? You like to learn, you like to fiddle with things, you like to do semi-complex math where you can’t trust your solutions because you’re not quite sure if you even have the formulae correct. This will be awesome!”
And this is how I have come to this point. The point where I am crocheting a chain of 1,250 stitches for a provisional cast on.
What could possibly go wrong?