random thoughts – Day 1,595 – (Tuesday) – sock it

NOTE: Originally posted July 19, 2019. The sock drawer was reorganized since then, and is also back to being a hot mess due to more acquisitions. Things haven't really changed. 

I haven’t been able to close my sock drawer. Not easily, anyway. Not without forcibly shoving socks down and back and further into the space. It's a mess that needs to be emptied and reorganized, but that ranks pretty low on the fun meter, even with my rock-bottom standards, so it hasn’t been done. 

Sock drawer madness.

Instead, I regularly paw through the jumble of socks bought for special activities like hiking, skiing, and roller derby; for winter warmth and summer sweat; for dress pumps and oxfords and booties and gym shoes. I rifle through socks that are stretched out, too small, or too grungy, in search of the missing mate to that favorite pair that is perfect for those specific shoes that will complete whatever outfit was chosen for the day.  

Once upon another lifetime, in a different dwelling with different furniture, the sock drawer was a different story.  It was a tale of socks neatly rolled and arranged by color to provide a pleasing appearance when the drawer glided open. I imagined myself a shopkeeper in a tiny boutique with a lovely sock display ready for my imaginary customers to marvel at. It felt artistic. It was probably more the case that I was strung a bit too tight that I cared so deeply and entertained such delusions over the contents of a private space that no one would ever see unless they were really doing some snooping. I mean, I certainly didn’t invite guests in to see my sock drawer.  

In any event, it’s quite different now. 

Somewhere along the twisting and turning path of life, my sense of sock drawer design decorum was lost. The drawer no longer serves as a creative outlet. It probably doesn’t help that I sold that particular piece of furniture with the wonderful deep and inspirational drawers before I moved from Tennessee back to Massachusetts. 

The departure from caring about my sock drawer was roughly around the same time as a tragic loss of sense of humor and interest in once pleasurable aspects of life like creating stained glass, sewing, photography, baking, and social contact with other humans. Maybe it’s a case of some of these things being abandoned by me rather than “lost,” which seems to imply it was more the result of chance than my own neglect (apologies to my former friends and social contacts for the disappearing act). Hard to say. Maybe it’s just a solid six-year run of ennui or depression or “don’t give a shit-itus.” 

In any event, the current overcrowded sock conditions have recently been compounded by a strange desire for more socks. I’m not saying I shop with the intent of buying (ok, hoarding) socks, but when out to restock dog biscuits, granola bars, ramen, and makeup remover wipes, there is often a trip down the sock aisle of Family Dollar, Ocean State Job Lot, or Dollar Buy (I’m a very fancy shopper) to see what is available.

There is rarely disappointment, especially at Ocean State Job Lot, which boasts a full wall of socks, tights, and leggings and where a nine pack of Nine West low-cut socks was recently bought. NINE PACK!! For $4.99. That’s just 55.4 cents per pair! These beauties were in a range of neutral tones including light gray, blush, tan, tan and blush, tan and gray, and of course, the obligatory one pair of white. C’mon, how do you pass that up? I surely couldn’t, especially after running the usual calculations and evaluations including “how long do I have to work to pay for this,” (about 12 minutes), “do I really need this” (well, maybe not really, but the colors are nice), and “how will this improve my life” (more socks means fewer times doing laundry just for clean socks!).

Since arriving home, the nine-pack of low-cut socks has languished atop the dresser, still bound in the manufacturer’s wrapper for at least one, and likely closer to two or three months (but really, who is counting?). They don’t fit in the drawer already in need of reorganizing. And apparently, I didn’t need them that much, or even at all. Not right this minute, anyway. But when the sock shortage that will define a generation happens (and we know it’s coming, probably precipitated by a trade war) I will be ready (for a while) with my still new nine-pack of low-cut socks, and all the other socks for every occasion and shoe style.