My name is Rolanni, and I'm a sockaholic
Friday, December 17th, 2010 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rolanniI opened the door to my half of the bedroom chest (formerly "Steve's piece*" which came as part of his marriage portion) and -- all my socks fell out onto the floor.
I mean ALL of my socks fell out onto the floor. Swearing, I gathered them up by the armsful and dumped them on the bed, telling Steve I'd deal with them this evening. Which I have done.
I love socks -- mmmm, soft, stretchy fabric caressing your feet, fluffy cushioning between your soles and a cold, uncaring floor. Mmmmm....
Socks come in ridiculous colors and you can wear them with impunity, because, hey -- socks. I have a pair of grey-and-cream striped socks that I'm very fond of. And another pair, that has the solar system embroidered on a bright blue foreground. The toes and heels of that pair are yellow. I have lots and lots of little green hiking socks, that wear like iron. Blue ones, too. Boot socks. I need more boot socks, actually (no, really), because I tend not to limit their use to the insides of boots, but drag them on over more modest socks on really cold days, and wear them around the house like slippers.
Why do I have so many socks? you ask. Good question.
First, socks are useful and necessary articles of clothing. Second, they're relatively cheap and plentiful. Third, there's nothing so sensually satisfying as putting on a new pair of socks for the first time -- a cheap thrill, you might say, and you'd be right. We need our thrills.
Seriously, you don't want to be without socks -- like brown rice, another thing that I tend to buy when I'm feeling pinched, and also when the checkbook's plump.
So, anyway, the socks are back in the piece, for the moment. I think I've stacked them so they won't fall out again.
For awhile, anyway.
----
*In the version of American English spoken in Baltimore, Maryland, where I spent my formative years, a "piece" is any sufficiently large object of furniture. "Sufficiently large" being very much in the eye of the beholder. In this instance, the "piece" is a rather modest, five foot tall, two-door, two-drawer bureau that I've been swearing we're going to replace with Something Useful for...just about forever, actually.
I mean ALL of my socks fell out onto the floor. Swearing, I gathered them up by the armsful and dumped them on the bed, telling Steve I'd deal with them this evening. Which I have done.
I love socks -- mmmm, soft, stretchy fabric caressing your feet, fluffy cushioning between your soles and a cold, uncaring floor. Mmmmm....
Socks come in ridiculous colors and you can wear them with impunity, because, hey -- socks. I have a pair of grey-and-cream striped socks that I'm very fond of. And another pair, that has the solar system embroidered on a bright blue foreground. The toes and heels of that pair are yellow. I have lots and lots of little green hiking socks, that wear like iron. Blue ones, too. Boot socks. I need more boot socks, actually (no, really), because I tend not to limit their use to the insides of boots, but drag them on over more modest socks on really cold days, and wear them around the house like slippers.
Why do I have so many socks? you ask. Good question.
First, socks are useful and necessary articles of clothing. Second, they're relatively cheap and plentiful. Third, there's nothing so sensually satisfying as putting on a new pair of socks for the first time -- a cheap thrill, you might say, and you'd be right. We need our thrills.
Seriously, you don't want to be without socks -- like brown rice, another thing that I tend to buy when I'm feeling pinched, and also when the checkbook's plump.
So, anyway, the socks are back in the piece, for the moment. I think I've stacked them so they won't fall out again.
For awhile, anyway.
----
*In the version of American English spoken in Baltimore, Maryland, where I spent my formative years, a "piece" is any sufficiently large object of furniture. "Sufficiently large" being very much in the eye of the beholder. In this instance, the "piece" is a rather modest, five foot tall, two-door, two-drawer bureau that I've been swearing we're going to replace with Something Useful for...just about forever, actually.
