Only a short one this time, but another case of proving I am a thoroughbred airhead.
I'm a bloke. I admit it. Washing up waits until I am forced to eat baked beans straight from the can. Vacuuming is only necessary when enough dust has collected to completely blanket the floor. Laundry is only necessary when you're resorting to wearing pyjama tops as an alternative shirt.
(ok, those are all made up, but you get my point)
...but it is true I tend to do all my laundry in one go. three or four loads once every two weeks just about serves me. My next washing session was long overdue so I knuckled down and got it done.
First load. Boxer shorts, two pairs of jeans and a shirt
Second load. More shirts, t-shirts and a towel.
Third load. Rest of the towels and a shirt I'd missed.
Excellent, now I have lovely clean clothes, fresh towels and I'm set for another fortnight...
...until the next day when I was getting ready for work in a hurry and realised my fatal mistake. No socks. All of them were sitting in the laundry basket in the bathroom, festering. (I only use the basket for socks now). I was forced to go to work sockless, bare feet inside my trainers. To make matters worse it had been raining and my right trainer has a small crack in the sole which lets in water whenever I step in a puddle.
It's not a wholey unpleasent experience being naked inside your shoes, but not one I want to repeat in a hurry...
...until perhaps I dare to wear sandals.
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