ALL THESE FREAKIN' SOCKS



I have a drawer full of useless, holy, mis-matched socks. The purpose of this drawer and its contents eludes me. I open it every day, push a pile of these socks to one side, in search of the perfect pair of better socks to wear for the day. The pursuit of a worthy pair socks ensues every morning and usually concludes with the capture of a pair of matching, fully wearable socks.

Why the hell do I keep so many useless socks? Will I ever wear them? No. Will I ever find the missing mate? No. Will the wide elastic top that lost it's elasticity five years ago magically re-appear and make this pair of wool, very warm and comfortable, gray socks a permanent resident of this drawer? No.

Emotional attachment will be my undoing, I guess.