The first step is admitting you have a problem, and that you are powerless over it. Okay, I am probably not powerless over it, but it is a problem.
I hate to fold laundry. Specifically underwear and socks. HATE.IT. If you were to open either my underwear or sock drawer right now, you would see a writhing pile of clothes. Socks in knots. Panties doing unspeakable things with bras. There it is, my deep, dark secret.
As it is now cold outside, which necessitates wearing closed toed shoes, which usually necessitates wearing socks, I have had to face the writhing knot of socks for the first time in months. I wear athletic socks throughout the year when working out and wearing my sneakers, but those socks live in a different drawer, where I can keep the whites separate from the darks and allows me some relief in my sock search, but that is as far as my organizational efforts extend.
Oh I have tried over the years to get a handle on this. I have sat down with the pile of socks and organized them, paired them up and put them back in some sort of order. That lasts about 3 days. Pretty much until the laundry is done and there are new citizens of the Land of Sock to put away and I just cannot bring myself to pair up and fold them inside of each other because as I mentioned before – I.HATE.IT. So the new citizens are bunched up and dropped in willy nilly on top of the semi-organized currently residing citizens.
I don’t really know where the root of this loathing comes from, but it is there. The problem that it presents to me is that over the years I have, in my quest to find the perfect black sock, one that is not too thick, not too thin, has just enough spandex in it to stay up without strangling my leg and cutting off the circulation to the top quarter inch of my epidermis, I have accumulated quite a few black socks. This morning as I pulled sock after sock from the knot, I counted 7 completely different black sock options. And as I pulled the eighth sock out I finally found a companion to one of them, so that is the pair I am wearing right now.
What I need to do is find that perfect black sock, buy about 12 pairs, and dispose of all pretenders to the throne. Then when I reach in to the abyss, I will be guaranteed whichever two socks I produce, they will always match.
That thought right there is the reason I own at minimum 7 different pairs of black socks. My holy grail is still out there. In the meantime, I will either have to live with the situation as it is losing 15 minutes in my morning to the Sock Match Game, or face my problem, turn it over to a higher power and conquer my inner demon. Wonder if I can get Bob to fold my socks…