Counting Stitches (and the panic it induces)

Well I finally realized why I cast on so many times... I can't count.
Call it a testament to the level of education we receive here in the States, but somehow I managed to get past Algebra III and deep into Statistics without being able to count properly.

Some how the instructions "CO 104 sts" equals (in my little brain) "CO 102 sts"

Yeah.
Oh, just wait, it gets better...


I bound off the appropriate number of stitches for the armscye, knit until I needed to evenly divide the stitches for the neck shaping, worked the appropriate number of stitches (which should be half the total number of stitches), went to place the remaining stitches (which should also, coincidentally, be half the total number of stitches) on a stitch holder and....

Not half. (?)
Not evenly divided. (??)
41 stitches (Wha'???)

Hmm. Let's recount the number of stitches worked. Perhaps we got a tad overzealous. We are enjoying this knitting experience so much we simply lost track of the number of stitches worked. Let's count again.

Not half. (?)
Not evenly divided. (??)
42 stitches (Wha'???)

Somewhere in the 14½ inches of straight knitting required to get to the armscye, I managed to dwindle 102 stitches to 95....


Good times right?
Oh, just wait, it gets better...

Then, as I was counting and recounting, as I desperately tried to make sense of the madness, in a pivotal moment, I remembered.

The moment was akin to the remembrance Mrs. Dalloway experiences as the scent of fresh flowers envelops her while shopping and she is instantly transported to the summer evening parties in the days of her youth.

It was that profound. But, instead of scent acting as the catalyst, I believe texture was the agent.

Deep in the cockles of my little brain, there is a slightly dusty and battered memory of "customizing" my Zena (Warrior Princess) with some waist shaping.