This weekend I finished the second of Eunny Jang's Endpaper Mitts. This project was quite engrossing and required a certain amount of paying attention. I finally mastered the dastardly increasing in pattern routine and significantly improved my stranding skills. By the end of the second mitt I could predict the pattern and knit on with confidence without feeling like I needed to run to my LYS like the insecure crafter I truly am.
So after knitting all day Saturday and for several hours yesterday, I finished. I expected a wave of satisfaction to wash over me. I was halfway expecting a surge of adrenaline and the knitting equivalent of a 'runner's high'. But I just felt...nothing. Perhaps the frigid temps outside are not making fingerless gloves seem all that practical right about now, especially since I'm about to go the coldest place in the world i.e. Minnesota on Wednesday. But still, I worked in a sustained and dedicated manner on these, with yarn from my stash like a good little stash buster, shouldn't I feel something?!
So tell me. Delurk yourselves and answer me this: does completing a knitting project ever leave you with an empty, dissatisfied feeling? Are you ever left wondering, à la Peggy Lee, "Is That All There Is?"