Thoughts go in...thoughts go out...rubbish.

I wonder what it is like to be a sock? I was doing laundry this morning and I noticed my little black socks were all huddled together in the basket and this got me thinking several things....
1.  Do socks like to be worn? I am not sure which would be preferable but I guess it would depend on the sock's personality. I think I would rather encase my human's stinky foot and to be out and about and have adventures rather than just hang out in a dark drawer with all the other lonely socks. I mean what would you do all day and what do socks have to talk about?
2.  Do socks live in terror of the washing machine? I mean, I looked at them all huddled together in my basket and they looked a little terrified. It still didn't stop me from putting them in the wash as I have sociopathic tendencies when it comes to clean socks. I callously tossed them in the washer despite their desperate attempts to stay together. And they always try to make a run for it when you are transferring them. I would rather jump to my death between the washer and dryer than to go into that nasty, drowning, spinning, chemical hell.
3. And lastly...are my socks more loyal to me than other humans? I mean, not to brag, but I never lose socks. I have heard horror stories about families with piles of lonely unclaimed and unpaired socks. Mine always seem to stay together. The go into the basket together. They may not make it into the washer at the same time but they always wind up together. I never have the odd sock. Maybe I am just sock blessed?

I think my underwear are the most desperate items in the dresser. They have all given up hope. The have lost all of their personality quirks. They have no will to live and that is why the elastic starts unraveling two days after you buy them. They just can't handle it. It is sad duty and I pity the cotton fibers that are exiled to my underwear drawer.

And why is it that we don't discard the old ones in a timely manner. I am pretty sure that buried underneath the ones I wear all the time are pairs from the 90's that just languish there doing whatever it is that old underwear does. Same goes for the old socks and bras. I mean really Karen, that bra would not be suitable to wear anywhere...anytime...so why is it the designated emergency bra? You know the one you hold back just in case you miscalculate your laundry and find yourself without a clean bra to wear to wherever you have to be in 30 minutes? There is not even an illusion of support there but it somehow makes you feel less pathetic if you put it on to run to wherever you are going. You can comfort yourself with...at least I have a bra on. So you have to make sure you don't get your boob caught in your pants when you button them up...at least you have a bra on. Unless you are going to Wal-Mart at 3 am...then of course all bets are off and you can blend in with everyone else and no one but the employees with camera phones will notice.

I will save the analysis of sleepy shirts and shorts for another time...my brain is already moving on to something else equally as nonsensical. Oh look...a chicken!