Tuesday, March 27, 2007

So maybe its time for the post, that none of you are really ever ready to read. eh? I took an inventory of the underwear I own. Yes. In all of its glory, those few words took your breath away; to replace it with vomit and repulse. Shake that feeling campers! Its just a reflex, in time, you'll move past this stage.... but currently on stage; my underwear.

Is it a collection? See, I really hope not. A collection implies something of a static, stick pins holding it to velvet, type of on the wall display... really, we're talking about the pile of yarns I was shocked to know I owned, come laundry day. Yes, I do laundry on a regular basis, but for some reason the idea of idiotic inventory levels has been floating in my brain. The same brain that says; really 18 plastic bags in my room is really too many. The same brain, that says; "I should come up with a system to rotate my clothing now that its about 83 degrees outside again." So here I am. Annnnnny way. I started doing laundry tonight, then set off for parts yonder, to rummage through storage totes of clothing. What I was looking for were all my warm weather clothing that I displaced to rapidly find my sweatshirts and longsleve t's for this year. [Why only this year? Well at this point last year, I was selling copiers; the only thing I could wear were dress shirts and suit coats.... and everything from before then, that I wore at Iowa, was packed up in a rush in totes and left to sit in storage] As I'm grazing through one anonymous bin after another, I start to run across other clothes. Clothes I didn't know I still had. Clothes that I thought, I'd parted ways with long, long ago. Alas!

With my arms loaded I returned home to do, yet even more, laundry! I managed to find a few t shirts of bands, and a couple pairs of pants I'd wanted for a while [namely my cords and my khaki paratrooper pants], and a pile of boxers. Yes, a pile. I had patterns I never remembered wearing. Well, not for a long time. Lots of plaids. Anyways, I started washing all that shit, and returned to my room to fold and put away the first batch... the batch I have been wearing. Thats when I realized it. I have too many pairs of boxers. I really do. My underwear is out of control. There, more words to bring that vomit reaction again. But yes, my underwear is out of control, and I know it. When it was all said and done, I counted 36 pairs. Fuck me. 36 fucking pairs of boxers. Thats rediculous. Thats unnecessary. Thats woman-like. But, here is my MONTH PLUS supply of boxers, washed and ready to go. And, I'm not all that sure I'm uncomfortable about, ahem, the comfort they give me.

Yeah yeah, aside from the killing trees, dolphins, and third world workers; my stock pile gives me some descent flexibility on future laundry dates. Really, now, I'm just bound by what I have to wear to Menards. Otherwise, I could litterally go for a month without doing any. Assuming I can get about 3 days out of a pair of pants; and that I break out my cords and khakis to flesh out my denim.... but its sickening to think, that I sat and bought it all. But I couldn't have. Its just not like me to have THAT freaking much on hand. White t shirts? Sure. They get nasty, they are fairly cheap, and once they stretch out I really don't like them. So I have alot of those, and the requisite 1 spare package [un opened] on hand. For funerals [mine or otherwise] and the like where it could be important to need a fresh shirt. Socks? Shit yes. I have alot of socks. Really because, I don't throw them out. I've got socks, I've probably had since junior high school. I've got socks with holes, socks with no mate, and socks that I don't think are mine. But they are all loaded in that drawer. But my underwear count freaks me out. I mean, yeah, I buy a few pairs whenever I need to replace some. Yes, I own two lucky pairs, for the occasions when I hope to get lucky. But thats really understandable. 36 pairs, however, is not. So when I was counting and folding, I started thinking about where the hell it all came from. Sadly enough, I can recount for most of it. MOST. But its crazy like that. That I have a pile of boxers, to clothe a platoon, at any time.