Fourth Sock Syndrome

Sock #1:
Any knitter who has ever knitted a pair of socks understands the scourge of Second Sock Syndrome -- that dearth of enthusiasm that ensues after the thrill and satisfaction of a completed (single) sock. The first sock is a challenge; the second sock is mere repetition, a "been-there, done-that" feeling of drudgery. Compounding the chore of producing the second sock is the knowledge that the first sock is meaningless without its mate. After all, there is not much of a market for individual socks, no matter how cleverly and lovingly made. With this in mind, I was determined that I would not fall under the SSS shadow (would that be the SSSS?) and cast on for Sock #2 the same day I cast off Sock #1. Here is where my problem started -- Sock #1 did not fit well and I was not happy with the pattern I had used. There were errors in the pattern and my efforts to remedy the errors were less than satisfactory. Thus, Sock #2 would be done in Pattern #2.

Sock #2:
Pattern #2 was successful -- the sock was done and the fit was good. Unfortunately, Sock #2 bore only a fleeting resemblance to its predecessor, Sock #1. The whole idea of a pair of socks is that they create a pair and two such dissimilar socks as these simply did not meet that standard. Thus, Sock #1 was, in knitters' lingo, frogged (completely unraveled) and it was on to:

Sock #3:

Yes, Sock #3. Sock #3 was started a little less enthusiastically than Sock #2. After all, I was geared up to overcome the difficulties of Second Sock Syndrome (SSS), not Third Sock Syndrome (TSS). Still, progress was being made and it was coming along rather quickly. Sock #1 was not completely wasted as I was re-using the yarn and my sock-making technique was definitely improving. I have arrived at a pivotal point in the pattern -- it is time to "turn the heel." Since the pair should match (see Sock #2 above), I turned to Sock #2 to compare the length of the foot and ... no Sock #2. Sock #2 has vanished from the face of the earth. Disappearing socks have been the bane of sock-washers for years but normally, the sock has to go through a load of laundry before it can pull off its stunt and disappear. My sock must be exceptional or, at least, precocious to hide itself so quickly and so completely. It has been gone for over two weeks now and I am having a hard time forcing myself to finish S#3 since and inevitable S#4 is in the offing.

Box Score:
Sock #1 - frogged
Sock #2 - disappeared
Sock #3 - on the needles
Sock #4 - yet to come

I blame the cats.