Wednesday, November 29, 2017

I’m Totally Giving Up On Socks

At this point in my life, I only have so much mental bandwidth for gratuitous concerns. My psychological real estate is at a higher premium than a 2,000 square foot exposed brick loft in the Meatpacking District. I simply must clean house.

My fire sale of brain clutter started several years ago, when I began a concerted effort to unburden myself of fucks.

First came caring about whether people talked shit about me behind my back, followed quickly by fears of personal and/or professional reprisal borne of calling Donald Trump a fascist cantaloupe on the internet every day. Truth be told, I still harbor maybe 28% more fucks than I’d like to, but hey. It’s a process.

Now, I am officially, totally, and 100% giving up on socks, which almost rhymes with fucks.

Whether they match. Whether they fit. Whether they have holes. Whether they disappear in the laundry, and where they go when they do. Whether my kids keep them on their feet or refuse to wear them in winter, or left them at another kid’s house. Whether I accidentally wear a pair with visible curse words sewn on them to a meeting or a parent-teacher conference. Whether there’s some sock-related life hack method I could use to make sure all of these problems were fixed.

Like I just can’t. I can’t let socks take up any more space in my mind than they do in my house, and preferably a whole lot less.

I encourage you to pick one thing that’s overstayed it’s welcome in a corner of your headspace that could better be used for more important things. It’s like giving up chocolate or alcohol for Lent, except you don’t have to be Catholic and it doesn’t have to be something you like or a sacrifice. It’s actually a reverse-sacrifice.


For me right now it’s socks. Tomorrow it could be folding my kids’ clothes before making them put them away, or perhaps ensuring that the big and small spoons live in two different compartments in the silverware drawer, or tuning out Christmas music when it’s not even December yet.

Live your best life by picking something to totally give up on.




1 comment:

  1. Ha! We did this a few years ago (at least for the kids, I still can't bring myself to wear unmatched socks.. but I only have 2 types so...). As for folding before putting clothes away... Yeah they come out of the dryer into the boy's drawers. Right side, inside out, I don't care... He didn't care when he threw them in the hamper so I don't care if they are in his drawers. I did do myself a favor a few years back and put labels on the drawers so I don't have to think about which drawer has underwear vs pants. Who has that kind of time?

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