The Lavender Vest, Part Two: Frogging, Feelings, and My Impending Villain Era

by | Mar 1, 2026 | 0 comments

The lavender vest has been frogged three times.

Three.

If this yarn had any self-respect, it would’ve filed for a restraining order by now. But no. We’re "committed." This vest is officially less about knitwear and more about "personal development," which feels like a targeted attack. I just wanted a cute layer. Instead, I’m apparently unearthing "character growth." Gross.

Knitting: The Gateway to Accidental Introspection

When I knit, my brain goes off-leash. Sometimes it’s plotting world domination. Sometimes it’s wondering why I said that one awkward thing to a friend in 2004. Mostly, it’s a full-blown corporate retreat for my business.

My hands are doing a basic stockinette while my brain hosts a board meeting. I’ll be halfway through a row thinking:

  • What systems am I neglecting now?

  • Why am I not "engaging" with my online people more?

  • Is this a nesting reflex or just insecurity wearing a productivity hat?

ADHD is a blast like that. Knitting doesn’t actually silence the committee in my head. It just gives them a slightly softer place to sit while they yell at me.

The Workshop Hangover

I gave a workshop on February 25th. I think it went well. I think. People were into it. The feedback was good. It felt solid.

And then, right on cue, the Internal Review Board showed up. You know these absolute joy-killers. They don't just critique. They conduct a forensic audit of your soul.

"Sure, they liked it, but could you have been clearer?"

"That slide was a mess."

"Was your authority 'clear' enough, or did you just sound like three raccoons in a trench coat?"

"Did you overtalk? (Yes.)

"Did you underdeliver? (Probably.)"

I tell myself it’s "refinement instinct," but let’s be real. Sometimes refinement is just doubt with better branding and a clipboard. So, instead of hiding in my usual "safe" work tasks, I decided to actually follow my own advice. I asked AI (Bob, because of course he has a name) to help me engineer five balls of lavender wool into something that isn't a tent.

The Vest of Mildly Aggravating Personal Growth

The plan was simple. A minimalist, open-front vest. Thigh-length. Dramatic slits. High-low hem. Subtle waist shaping. You know. "Casual."

For years, I’ve lived in boxy, shapeless clothes. Safe shapes. No risks. But lately? I’m tired of hiding. Not in my business, not in my creativity, and definitely not in my closet. I decided this vest would "skim" instead of "float."

And that’s when the drama started.

The I-Cord Incident

Version one bowed at the edges. The attached i-cord was too tight and pulling inward. My first instinct? The classic Pivot.

"Seed stitch would be prettier anyway."

"Maybe I don’t even like minimalism."

But Bob did something very annoying: he was helpful. He calmly suggested that maybe "pivoting" out of frustration is just a habit I have.

Rude. Accurate, but rude.

How many times have I changed direction just because things got a little friction-y? Instead of redesigning the whole vest to hide the mistake, I frogged it. I restarted. I loosened the tension. I stayed the course.

It worked. That wasn’t just a knitting win. That was a "stop running away from minor inconveniences" win.

Frogged Three Times (And Sadly Improving)

  • Version One: Too drapey.

  • Version Two: Great structure, but those "choking" edges.

  • Version Three: Balanced. Intentional. Might actually fit? (Don't look at it too hard. I don't want to jinx it.)

Each restart wasn't a failure. It was a refinement. It mirrors the workshop. It mirrors the business. You don't scrap the whole vision because of a tension problem. You just adjust the stitch.

Comfort Zones and Purple Wool

I’ve spent years wearing clothes that help me disappear. Big. Loose. Safe.

This vest acknowledges I have a waist. It moves. It has intention. It feels mildly rebellious, which is pathetic for a piece of knitwear, yet here we are. Knitting this while spiraling about business systems has been oddly poetic. Every time I think "I should show up more," I’m literally knitting something that won't let me hide.

AI: The Co-Pilot Who Won't Let Me Quit

I still knit every stitch. I still chose the yarn. But having Bob there for the gauge anxiety and the neck-roll drama kept me from derailing. For the ADHD brain, the gap between "this is annoying" and "I'm quitting forever" is where projects go to die.

Bob closed that gap.

Where We Are Now

  • 4.0 mm needles.

  • Beautiful lifted increases.

  • Calm i-cord edges.

  • A vest that is framing me instead of swallowing me.

World domination? Still pending. Self-discovery? Unfortunately in progress. Lavender wool? Thriving.

Stay tuned for Part Three. Until next time friends...

AI Didn’t Make Me Lazy. It Made My Vision Possible.

by | Feb 9, 2026 | 0 comments

There’s a "spicy" little myth floating around that using AI is "cheating". The narrative suggests you’ve simply outsourced your soul, kicked your feet up, and are lounging in a silk robe while a robot does the heavy lifting.

First of all: hilarious. Second: if you saw the sheer volume of my "neurospicy" to-do list, you’d know AI didn’t make me lazy. It made me able to finish things.

The Executive Function Tax

As a creative with a loud imagination, ideas have never been my problem. I can see the "brain-movie" of a finished project-the vibe of a space, the structure of a workshop, the flow of a landing page-long before it exists

My struggle is the bottleneck. It’s the 18-step obstacle course between "in my head" and "in the real world". It’s the tabs, the half-drafts, and the "I’ll come back to this later" pile that inevitably turns into a digital junk drawer with legs.

For me, AI isn’t the creator. I am the creator. AI is the translator-the assistant that helps me get the vision out of my brain before it evaporates.

From Brain-Movie to Concrete Reality

When people say AI makes things "too easy," I have to ask: Easy for whom?. The hard part isn't typing; it’s pulling the right words out of the fog while juggling ten jobs and an ADHD brain that’s playing the "where did I put that important thing" game on hard mode.

AI helps me do the part that drains me so I can do the part that lights me up.

  • It reduces friction: Taking a chaotic brain dump and turning it into a structured plan, a script, or a checklist.
  • It provides accessibility: Using a tool to lower the "starting cost" of a task isn't a moral failure-it's building a digital wheelchair ramp for your mind.
  • It prevents burnout: Efficiency is what keeps you from rage-quitting your own dreams.

Taste is the Anchor

AI can generate a lot of content, but most of it is "beige"-like unseasoned chicken. It lacks your lived experience, your humor, and your "nope, that’s not it" radar.

I still steer the ship. I decide what is aligned and what is "corporate nonsense". If anything, AI has made my voice clearer because it forces me to articulate exactly what I mean. I’m constantly refining, defining, and putting my personality in on purpose.

Building a Team (Without the Payroll)

The biggest shift has been treating AI like a diverse department rather than a single tool. Running a creative business means you're wearing fifteen hats at once:

  • **The Copywriter**: Tightening captions and brainstorming hooks.

  • **The Dev Assistant**: Troubleshooting tech without spiraling into ten open browser tabs.

  • **The Brand Strategist**: Refining messaging to ensure it makes sense to people who don't live inside my head.

I am still the Director. AI isn't running my business; it’s helping me run it so I can actually remember to do things like "drink water".

Systems Beat Willpower

Working with AI is a learned skill, not magic. It’s about iteration-learning how to give better direction, provide context, and shape the output until it clicks.

My visions were never the problem. The bottleneck was. I’m not using AI because I don’t want to do the work; I’m using it because I want the ideas in my head to become real tools people can use and art they can connect with.

AI didn't make me lazy. It gave my vision a way out.

Until next time, friends...