I've talked before about how I sometimes/most times wish that my house would just burn down so I could start over. There's just so much stuff! For months now, we've been giving away a garbage bag of crap a week, not to mention the stuff I've been just throwing away. (Book Jackets--you are useless and I no longer feel any guilt about throwing you away! Be warned!) But there's always more stuff. Where does it come from? And why don't people in Brooklyn and Denmark ever seem to have it?
Anyway, here's a perfect example. Our sock situation is 100% out of control. We have a whole laundry basket full of unmatched socks. And maybe every month or so, I dump it out and play the worst matching game ever. (Just imagine sorting through 40 white ankle length sport socks, separating the Hanes Hip-Fit from the Hanes Dry-Sport. If I could do apps, it could be the next Angry Birds!)
(Me engaged in the Great Sock Dump of 2013 while watching some TOS--thanks, AshleyRose!)
But this weekend, I just had it. Why am I holding onto all these lonely socks, especially when most of them are holey and older than my senile dog? I seriously had socks from middle school. MIDDLE SCHOOL! We're talking socks that are going on their second decade! And there was this patterned dress sock that neither of us could even claim. It looked like something my dad brought over from Lebanon in the late 70s. But not in a good way.
So, I did the monthly sock match, and then I THREW THE REST AWAY! I didn't even keep the argyle socks because I might "craft" with them at some point. That's horder-talk.