Today I stood in my sewing room staring at my serger for four, five minutes remembering. Because two or three days before I threaded it because mom was having trouble getting it to work. Then I tested it.
I know I tested it. The fabric with the test seam was still connected.
But the only machine cord plugged in on the table today is for my old sewing machine. A little digging and I finally found the cord in a bag, tied up still in the fancy Velcro from the repair place under the table.
BUT I TESTED IT.
Another instance of the same sort would be that one and only delivery run in the two years that I owned Buster, the red VW golf, the back doors EVER opened. Just that once. Never again. Not even later that same night.
Watching Jupiter Ascending because The Mary Sue says it's the best bad movie. Lego head it wolfish rescuing a gril queen. I need to finish my stories before they've all already been told.
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