Mix-Matched Socks and 10-Year-Old Bras

I’m just not together enough for matching socks. Matching socks are for people who haven’t completely given up. Matching socks are for people who actually pour their cereal into a bowl, instead of eating it with their fingers out of the box. Matching socks are for people who, when they realize they forgot to brush their hair that day, don’t just look in a mirror and say Hey, good enough! Most mornings, I just try to find the same type of socks (ankle socks, knee-highs, etc.) so my feet don’t feel weird.

I hope my feet are color-blind (I know they look color-blind.) That way they won’t lose self-esteem every time I put on one pink sock, and one green.

Sometimes, I’m pretty sure I have a couple matching pairs in the piles of boxes blocking my closet. I never unpacked from college. Before you say that’s understandable, I graduated last May, not this past December. I would rather sit around listening to music before work than dig through my dorm stuff for two purple socks. I can often find two blue socks, but they are always different shades. Close enough, right?

I get even worse. Today I was wearing one of those bras a shirt just can’t cover enough. With most bras, shirts still can’t hide the outline, but this bra outline really stuck out. I looked at myself in the mirror, and knowing that I had at least 35 minutes until heading to work, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t need to swap bras.

I think this problem was because this bra was so old and the wire was bent. This was the nearly 10-year-old bra I said I threw out in previous posts (I didn’t because I’m a hoarder. Who knows when I am going to need it? Aren’t women supposed to pass training bras down to their children? No?)

I eventually swapped bras because I realized Did I really want to be this lazy? Even though the answer was an obvious Yes!, I didn’t want others to know I was that lazy. Also, because I was actually wearing matching socks today. Sure, I only had matching socks because I found a pair last week and haven’t taken them off since, for fear of never finding a matching pair again, but nevertheless, I had matching socks. I was together enough to swap out the 10-year-old bra too. Just not together enough to throw it away yet. . . .