Socks

No, not hand knit socks. Just normal, ordinary regular boot socks. The kind I wear inside Army boots. Yes, that last sentence was a bit obvious.

Up until now, socks have not been an issue. I brought lots of socks with me to theater, then George accidently sent me a bunch more when he mailed some stuff back about month two. Add to that the fact that until the last couple of weeks when I got in a hurry, I was doing inventoried turn in at the laundry. I knew exactly how many socks I was turning in and it made sense to always turn in pairs. When they came back, those socks were paired up, two by two and always matched.

Bulk turn in is faster. I don’t have to sort things out and go over how many socks, bras or panties I am turning in with some Afghani or Pakistani guy. The down side is that I get back this pile of socks, not matched. Unloading the laundry bag these last couple of times meant dumping socks into the drawer. No thought, just a tired doc at the end of the day.

This morning I pulled out a couple of socks. One green, one tan. Pulled out another two socks – both green – but no joy to either each other or the sock already in my hand. Couple more socks – one tan, but not the same as the first tan sock and yet another green.

Hello? I knew that I had two different brands of desert colored socks, but thought it was only two kinds of green. Turns out it is four. The next sock out is green and it matches sock #3.

After pulling on my socks I stand there looking at the drawer thinking – I can either
1) sort them now
2) keep going through this every morning till I either run out of socks or get sick of the process

(did I mention that I had black socks in the second drawer which could have made this process even worse?)

Just about when I decide that I want breakfast more than I am interested in order I notice that my left foot is wet. Seems like in my stomping around I knocked over my small water heater. Not too much water – just enough to soak a small carpet area, right under my foot.

Taking a breath, I went rooting the drawer for a pair of socks.

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7 Responses to Socks

  1. Angeluna says:

    It’s the little things in life!!!

    How awful to imagine turning in unmentionables to Afghani/Pakistani laundry guys. With their culture, wonder how they deal with it from their end. Do they touch it only with their left hands?

  2. Holly says:

    At least at turn in – they don’t touch any garment at all. I am not sure about the laundry facility itself, but I suspect gloves.

  3. Helen says:

    At least you haven’t had a sock go AWOL yet….or have you!

  4. Cheryl says:

    Or you could just put two socks on-nobody is going to see your feet! 🙂

  5. Diane says:

    A solution to this would be to buy all the same colour socks! That way, no problem…no matter what two pair you pull out of the drawer and when, they would always match.

    I bought black socks like that, then came home to find they had different coloured toes. Do I care? Nope…unless I take off my shoes, who’s going to know.

  6. Carmen says:

    Do your socks show when they are in their boots?

  7. Carmen says:

    I think we are here to just keep learning and keep doing until we don’t have any more time left.

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