So I tried to Sew

Over a month ago I signed up for this beginner's sewing class. Now when I say beginner, I mean I have little to no experience with a sewing machine. The machine I had I opened the night before class. I was instructed to bring everything that came with my machine. That was exactly what I brought: the machine, the manual and the extra pieces in the storage chamber. I sat down, saw others walking in with their machines, sewing kits, getting things started. Beginning to feel a little uneasy at this point. These people are more prepared than I was, and it is starting to bother me.

Class begins and my cell phone rings. Super. Thought I had turned it off, but okay, whatever, I didn't, let's move on. We are instructed to get out a needle and thread it. Looking around, I see the class following suit. I have no needle. I have no thread. I was instructed to bring my machine and everything that came with it. I have my machine and everything that came with it, and it is obviously not right. The pet peeve rage is beginning to flame its little embers. I asked specifically what to bring, maybe I am the idiot that needs a little more specific than the rest of the class, but I did ask and I did bring what I was told and IT'S NOT RIGHT PEOPLE.

At this point, I begin to sweat, noticing this draws my attention to my armpits, which we have all heard about before. Quickly, I have a flashback to the earlier morning, getting ready in the bathroom. Not wanting to get deodorant all over myself, I got dressed first and wanted to put the deodorant on afterward. But I never did. And now I am flustered and I am getting sweaty and I have no deodorant on and nowhere to go until lunchtime to get some.

A kind soul next to me allows me to borrow supplies which is truly a blessing and a very sweet thing of a stranger to offer. If it were not for this particular individual, I might have cried a few tears at a break or cursed in the car later. Working further into our lesson, I realize we have to stand up and take each other's measurements. This means I have to remove the sweater I have been wearing to keep my armpits to myself and air them out to the poor person with the measuring tape. Think quick. There is a wet nap in my purse that looks like a miracle/million dollars when I find it. Go to the bathroom. Wet nap the armpits. Yes.

Many times I wanted to leave. Many times I felt like an idiot and that this was not the class for me. At one point I was pulled aside for one on one attention because I just really needed the extra help. But, in the end, I made a sort of box-shaped-belly-top nightshirt like the rest of the group. It was by far not the best work or the easiest thing I had ever attempted, but the point was that I finished it. Yay for me for not crying and for being persistent. All too often I have a tendency to shy away from trying/finishing things in which I don't feel validated. It was very liberating to know that I was bad and that it was okay. So what do I recommend? Try something new, fail at it miserably and always keep a wet nap handy.