The sock gods: A comedic rant about laundry

Noteworthy

5 May 2023 by WTF Notebooks

Laundry, laundry, laundry. When the hell will it ever fucking end? It's like the cosmos is against us, ensuring that no matter how much we scrub, dry, fold, and stash, there's always more goddamn laundry waiting to ambush us.

Just when you believe you're ahead, kaboom! Another basket of dirty ass clothes pops up, teasing you with its overflowing presence, prepared to be washed, dried, and folded all over again.

And don't even get me started on folding: Have you ever attempted to fold a fitted sheet? Those shits are like trying to fold a damn king-sized mattress. It's a bloody catastrophe.

But what's worse than that nightmare is the age-old fucking mystery that's been plaguing humanity since the invention of washing machines: the vanishing of socks.

One could start to think that every time we do laundry, we're sacrificing to the sock gods. We throw in a pair of socks, and only one comes out. It's like we're living in some kind of fucked-up laundry-based version of the Bermuda Triangle.

And it's not just any damn socks that disappear. Oh no, it's always the best socks. The ones that are just the right thickness, the right length, and have the perfect amount of stretch. One moment, I have the ultimate pair of socks, and the next moment, one of them has vanished like a fart in the damn wind.

Where the fuck do they go? Maybe they're on a goddamn beach somewhere, sipping Mai Tais and living their best lives, while we're stuck here folding their damn partners.

I, myself, am ready for that Mai Tai now, and laundry can go suck a sour lemon. The only thing that makes doing laundry tolerable is the knowledge that I'm not the only one fighting this battle. We're all in this together, like a bunch of wrinkly-ass soldiers fighting a war against filth and grime.