Depression Talk

I did laundry last night, a task that I have learned to love now that I am not required to traverse six floors that smell like drugs and stale beer; neither do I have to consider selling my organs on the black market in order to afford to complete this task, the washing of my clothes.

The first load I do is always socks. I make it no secret that I have a love affair going on with socks. There are days when I will switch socks sometimes four or five times because I just love having clean, fluffy socks on. I’ve been known to break up with people who have come to my house — or been in my vicinity — sporting socks that I find unappealing. I’ve also been known to stop being friends with people I don’t like using the fact that they have holes in their socks as a reason. There is nothing more detestable in this world than dirty, ill-fitting, or hole-ridden socks. They cost like fifty cents a pair. Invest, people.

There are very few other items that I would consider putting in the wash with my socks. Sometimes I will allow socks and a bath towel in the same load, and sometimes pale T-shirts if I can remember exactly where I wore them. I don’t want the wash water contaminated because that might interfere with the purity of my socks. The purity of my soul? Gets contaminated on a daily basis. But if my socks get fucked with, I get testy.

I was folding up all my socks last night which is not an easy task. I have a variety of styles of socks, six to be precise, and when you are dealing with over forty pairs of six different types of socks, things can get fairly hectic. When I completed my sock-folding mission, I had a laundry basket full of them and I was beaming at my collection the way mothers beam at new babies and my own mother was staring at me in horror. She asked me: “Does that make you feel happy?”

And I have to say that yes, yes it does make me happy. If I ever have a pair that gets dirty, I can toss them. If I ever go away on vacation, half of my bag is filled with socks because if one pair gets wet? I have six more right when I need them! If holes get ground into them, they can go.

Add to that the fact that if I go shopping and my heart soars for the next seven consecutive days?

And I’m sure it makes perfect sense to have that many socks.