Sleeves. They are sneaky little things. First, you think, "Oh, it's just a sleeve, how long could it take?" It starts out innocently enough: you cast on fifty-something stitches, finish the ribbing in less than an hour, and feel very smug that you are knitting the sleeves first, as they seem to be the downfall of many a sweater knitter. "Why does anyone give a crap about sleeves," you think. "These are easy."
Then, the next thing you know, entire days are lost in a haze of wool; you're picking bits of yarn out of the strangest places (your boyfriend's pants?! the dishwasher?!); you daydream about going to the dentist as a pleasant alternative to knitting more sleeve.
Then, all of a sudden, it's over. Somehow the black hole of knitting that has consumed your every last braincell for the last week is suddenly and magically finished and ready for a warm bath. After which, you know that it's going to be so cute and fluffy and you won't be able to stop petting it and admiring how well it turned out.
....all right, Sleeve, you are pretty adorable. But don't think this means we're friends.