22 January 2011

Massive Procrastination

Things I should be doing:

1. Running scent samples.
2. Cleaning sequencing reactions.
3. Laying tile I bought back in July in the utility room.
4. Going to the gym.
5. Making chicken salad for Eagan's birthday party tomorrow.
6. Going to the grocery store.

What am I doing instead, you ask?

Wasting time on the internet watching stuff like this:

and this:

Seriously. Can you believe it takes over 5 minutes to teach someone how to fold socks? When it only takes 38 seconds to teach them to fold a t-shirt? I love that the intro to this video says "Guys, Impress the girls!" Because I know that I'm impressed by a man's sock-drawer neatness. Although, now that I think about it, I'd probably be a little scared if I snuck a peek in a man's sock drawer and it was all organized like that. I'd be thinking "OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE", which, I might add is something I would never think about a woman based on the neatness of her sock drawer. Double standards suck.

So I decided to try it because, you know, my drawers can get as messy as the next person's. And because this blog is all about me, you, my gentle readers, are coming on the campaign trail with me as I run for mayor of Obsessive-Compulsiveville.

This is how I normally fold socks. One goes inside the other, so I always have a pair without fishing through a bunch of random socks.

And this is my sock drawer.

I'm actually quite proud of this because I have a sock problem. It seems that I never met a pair of socks I didn't like. So I got this little organizer one day and committed myself to having no more socks than would fit in the organizer. There are 32 slots in the organizer. What about it? The side trays hold my knickers as they say, another holds bandanas (more a summertime thing), and the drawers to either side hold dress socks and brassieres. Pantyhose, tights, slips and stuff I only wear to dress up events or Halloween are kept in the bathroom closet .

And here's the sock drawer after.

Now this looks nice, but is actually quite dangerous. The sock folding created space for more socks! Danger. Danger. Danger.

T-shirt drawer before.

This actually isn't bad. Just last week I went through and did a major purge of clothing that I don't wear and an entire laundry basket of clothes is sitting in the den waiting on a trip to the Goodwill. But hey, I'm going with this project, so I'm following through.

T-shirt drawer after.
It used up half the space after the Japanese folding technique. Damn! OK, so this is dangerland, too. I'm tempted to go get some of that stuff out of the laundry basket in the other room and put it back in the drawers.

What the hell am I going to do with all this real estate? The bottom drawer of this massive antique dresser is already just holding odds and ends like an empty jewelry case, some packing cubes, some stuffed animals, etc.

Took me about 20 minutes to do the whole deal, including watching the videos, learning the techniques and re-folding my clothes. Granted, I didn't go to great lengths to deal with wrinkles and what not, but hey! At least I accomplished something this afternoon.


  1. I tried to watch these vids the other day and my internet connection wouldn't let me... these are way better ways of folding than the ones I use. I have so many t-shirts I have to roll them to get them all in the drawer! I can't bear to part with them though--they all have such memories (the one I wore backpacking in Yosemite, the one I wore the day I met D, etc. etc.) I know, I'm crazy.

  2. Liv, I agree that some clothing has sentimental value. But the one you wore backpacking in Yosemite? I could see, "the outfit I wore to my Dad's funeral" or "the t-shirt my nephew made me with his toddler footprints in paint on it", and I can even understand the "one I wore the day I met D"....but backpacking? Really?

    I say if you have at least one photo of you IN the shirt, you're free to donate that baby to the Goodwill or to cycle it into the car-washing rags.