And don't tell me it builds character

I hate blocking.  I hate it passionately.  For the first couple years of my knitting career, I wouldn't do it.  As you can probably guess, that means that I also wouldn't do real lace projects, since they kind of require blocking.

When I finish a project, I'm generally pretty prompt about weaving in the ends and seaming.  They're not my favorite, but they really make a thing look done, and the results are immediate.  When I have to approach blocking, all I see in my future is a sore back and a lot of pins and wires and wet knees.  Since I have to wait for a thing to dry before it's actually blocked, the end result doesn't register in my brain as part of what all the pins and wires and soreness are about.

I had to do some blocking last night, of my Not A Drop.  Above is how it looked before I blocked it.  I went through the same thought ritual stages I go through every time I know I need to block something:
1. Okay, it's time to block this.
2. Heck no!  This is not worth the pain and suffering and boredom and irritation.  Not worth it.
3. Wait a minute, you just spent how many hours, nay, how many DAYS, working on this, and now you want to give up at the most crucial point?!  This will be a masterpiece!  Consider the generations to come who will see your work and praise your excellence!
4. Hey, I've got it!  It already IS a masterpiece!  Look at how pretty it is.  You can see each of the drops, and it's not that messy....  There aren't too many spots where the yarn's going the wrong way.  The edges aren't that warbly.  It lays pretty flat already.  What's the point--
(4.5) Okay, okay, okay.  If I have to rationalize this much, I guess I better just do it.

Apparently, my ambitious self has a much better vocabulary than my lazy self.

Here's the end result of my blocking last night.  It's so much more amazing now-- defined, crisp edges, yarn going the way it's supposed to go.  And this is the last stage of every blocking struggle I go through-- I wonder what all the fuss is about.  I see the end result and wonder how I could ever have doubted its way of taking a lump of noodles and turning it into something glorious.