I’ve been wearing the same socks for three days.
I’m freshly showered. My body is nicely lotion’ed. My jeans are clean. My sweater is clean. My underwear is clean. Even my bra is clean.
I know, right? A clean bra. That’s almost like having a clean bathroom. Which is obviously very rare in my life.
So, why oh why, am I wearing dirty socks?
I’d like to say it’s because I am lazy. Too lazy to wrestle the mass of mismatched’ness of socks in my sock drawer. Or maybe I know that no matter how long I look in my sock drawer, I am going to end up raiding Zed’s sock drawer and wear a pair of his gross grey Toronto Maple Leaf socks that used to be white.
So… SCREW IT. Three day old socks it is.
And here is the thing….I didn’t even try today. I didn’t even try to look. I just walked over to the dirty pile of laundry and put on the same pair of socks that I have been wearing for three days.
When did I stop caring?
Probably around the same time I quit shaving my legs……..and bikini area.