I’m not the kind of guy that puts the extra clean sock into the drawer until its mate is found.
I’m the kind of guy that puts the extra sock back into the hamper. Through this process, the odd sock is trapped in this endless cycle of laundry, where it will be washed into eventual nothingness, I assume.
I feel bad for this poor, unwanted sock who wants only to serve his function in life by warming my feet, yet knows only the purgatory of my hamper, washer and dryer.
But that is just the way my system works.
You see, with me there is no such thing as Laundry Day.
It is more of a Laundry Existence type of scenario.
First of all, I rarely fold my clothes. Just ask any of my previous roommates, and they will all tell you the same thing. I put clothes in the washer. When they are washed, I move them to the dryer, hit the timer, and then hit “start.”
That’s it. No more steps.
The step I purposely ignore is one that makes me shudder: Folding clothes. It just seems so awful. Like, I have to fold and pile all of it? Really? No thanks, I’d rather not have to physically account for each and every item I own. Then, I’m expected to figure out where to put them in the drawers. I mean, what if there is not enough drawer space?
And forget about hanging things.
It’s not just the act of putting the items of clothes on the hanger. I also have to button all of the buttons so that the collars of my collared shirts don’t appear as if they are desperately trying to bend, curl, and flower out. And I’m not even going to get into the damage done by the hangers themselves. So many of my favorite shirts have fallen victim to the dreaded shoulder nipples that inevitably form as a result of those stupid hanging contrivances.
Now, if I think of it, I will take some items out and fold them. But I am only talking about the big ticket items: t-shirts or dress shirts. Anything that I wear on my outermost layer in which people will make fun of me if it is wrinkled. As my friends have found out, doing the laundry isn’t my favourite thing to do. It is very time consuming, which is why they recommended I looked into a specialist such as PHS Besafe workwear laundry to help me out with cleaning my work clothes professionally and effectively. Out of everything, I am always afraid of ruining the materials, so for me, my best bet would be to visit someone who knows what they are doing and can provide me with the best results. But I have to deal with everything else on my own though.
So how do I avoid folding clothes? It’s very easy, actually. I simply don’t do it.
I want that to be written on something hard. Preferably stone or marble.
I simply leave all of my shit in the dryer until one of two things happen. Either I need one of the items (this happens every morning), or someone else needs the dryer (in which case I simply move the items to a laundry basket). Typically, however, if I hear the washing machine running, I will preemptively move my items out of the dryer so as to not delay the other person. And considering that I currently live alone, the system has been pointedly great.
How, one might ask, with such a lazy, messy, and pathetic system, do I know when it is time to actually do the wash?
The answer is simple. I have a special pair of underwear.
They are a plaid pair of blue boxers, and they let me know that the following day is laundry day, for I never wear them if I currently have any other clean underwear at my disposal.
I call this special pair of boxers “The Closing Ceremonies.”
The Closing Ceremonies serve the same function as the pink lines that you sometimes see on your receipts. No, they aren’t there for decoration to make your receipt look prettier. They are there to tell the cashier that register tape is about to run out.
By my nature, I am a procrastinator, so this whole last-pair-of-boxers-alert is the cherry atop the sundae of my Laundry Existence. They force me to finally do my laundry.
So there you have it. That is the basic structure of my Laundry Existence. It’s a pretty great system, if you really think about it.
Except for one thing.
Today, my washing machine broke.
If that wasn’t bad enough, I just so happen to be wearing The Closing Ceremonies.
The Laundromat is closed. And I have to be at work at 6:30 tomorrow morning.
I believe that my only solution is to stop at Walmart tomorrow morning to add some new boxers to my collection. The question becomes, what do I wear on my way?
Perhaps it is my imagination, but I swear that I can hear a tiny delighted laughter coming from my hamper.
It’s the kind of laugh that might very well suit a sock puppet.