I could write about how stressed I am about the 10349278346 hours of ap comp, mopro, and college apps I have to get done. Or I could write about how my sister thinks I'm her personal chauffeur and uses me to drive her friends around the west metro. But as I look at my feet, and at the pile of laundry in my room, I feel the need to discuss something that I feel very passionately about:
Matching Socks.
First of all, how is it humanly possible for a pair of socks to stay together? For all you
conscientious clean-freaks, I feel like there is an invisible string tying the two socks together, because I don't know how else you keep the same exact two socks together. My washer must swallow socks. I put a pair of nice pink costco brand socks in the washer, and by the time I fold and put everything away (usually ages later...I like to procrastinate putting away clothes) I can only find one sock. WHERE DID THE OTHER ONE GO? I will never solve this mystery of the missing sock.
But this is beside my point. In the grand scheme of things, I really don't care if I lose a sock because I am perfectly fine wearing a pair of two distinct and unique foot coverings. Why must I be racist to my black socks and only wear whites together? Whatever happened to integration? Brown vs. Board of Education would disapprove of all you sock matchers.
Why would I take the time to dig through my laundry and search for the missing sock? The only time I wear socks is in the winter, and why would I care what my feet look like if NO ONE IS LOOKING AT THEM? As long as I'm wearing some sort of stockings that keep my toes warm in my boots, I am a happy camper.
I challenge anyone who matches their socks to make a New Year's Resolution to spend their time doing something more interesting than matching socks. Be a non-conformist and non-discriminatory individual and wear two different colored socks. It might sound crazy and taboo, but wearing a blue polka dotted ankle sock with a Christmas reindeer fuzzy sock is a lot more fun than just plain white.
I have always mis-matched my socks! I love this...
ReplyDeleteI think there's an island somewhere where all of the lost socks and unfinished chapstick tubes go so nobody can find them. Just a thought.
Yay I knew you would be a fellow non-matcher. And I think that island is the editor's room. It eats lip gloss tubes and coffee mugs and ap comp essays and random sneakers...
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