Or: Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I think that describes it very well. "That" being the discovery that I have to rip out the fucking back of my teal cabled sweater because I miscounted my swatch and so my fucking calculations are way off. Which, of course, had to wait to be discovered until I decreased for the armholes. Just a little reminder: it's knit with 2.75 mm needles and takes for fucking ever.
I don't think I have used the f-word that often in the last twelve months.
Have a nice day, everyone!