When all else fails, it helps me to pre-wash and press fabric. Sort of a mindless thing, but that's what I needed—to quit thinking. And sure enough, as I handled the big snarly pile of disparate items from the dryer, snipping the threads that had hog-tied the mess hostage, I started to feel better.
As it happened, while waiting for the iron to heat up, I started riffling through a box of miscellaneous stuff on a shelf and found a pattern squished down in there that I had forgotten all about. Out of sight, out of mind.
A snail's trail quilt was on the bucket list and had been for a long time. I liked this pattern when I saw it over at em's scrapbag over a year ago and bought it. It was scrappy, involved a block I've wanted to try, and had alternating string-type blocks to boot. Winner!
There is something about the challenge of an odd fabric that appeals to me.
Maybe it's that soft spot for the underdog. Maybe it's the inherent conflict of such a piece that I want to resolve. Ever the peacemaker. Maybe I've seen too many movies where the nerdy wallflower mixes in with the popular kids and they both benefit. She still retains her individuality and both factions come away with broader view—and in the process someone usually gets their comeuppance. Justice.
Meh, who knows.