Started Rolling My Socks

I started rolling my socks. Or folding. Or matching. To each, their own.

It’s one of those things I thought that I would never do. Why marry them when I’m going to pull them apart in one second?

But, all the time I spent ruffling through my dark sock drawer, searching for a matching pair would get me all sweaty.

I would huff until I found the right pair and don’t even get me started on what it’s like to search for the little slip socks that go with flat shoes. Some days we mix and match without care. Different sizes? No big deal. Until your sock keeps falling and it throws your existence into a spiral. 

Getting ready to go for the day always starts with this mentally and physically tedious task. So, we buy more socks. It’s easier to just buy more socks than to deal with this mess. 

Better-fitting socks.

Cooler socks.

Then we wear them all through. And when they’re clean you throw them as you do, unmarried and unrolled into the abyss of your sock drawer.

Eventually, it gets harder and harder to find a pair.

Every wash and dry makes them smaller and somehow the drawer has grown larger. You’re sorting through what seems to be 8 years of socks, with a mix of some of your kids and the occasional sock of your husband. New socks. Old socks. Cool socks. All the socks.

They’re all there and yet, somehow, not a single pair.

You perpetually spend more and more time unsatisfied, digging through your drawers.

Getting ready for things, whether those things are finding your socks or finding your sanity, all start with you and the work you’re willing to put in to look after your future self.

I get that now.

I must choose to take the time it takes.

We have to do what we can to make sure we can get out the door without the chaos that clutters us inside, that we can never talk to anyone else about.

Nobody wants to hear about your socks.

Everybody has their own unique sock situation.

Only you can take care of the things that take up space in your head. And only you can take care of your socks.

So take care of your socks and take control of the things that you can. You don’t have to fight your socks. Only you can know how much you’re willing to take before you decide to change it and only you can change it.

Can you imagine that in due time, mere socks could lead you to insanity? One sock at a time, for me, it felt like it was.

True accountability takes its most honest form when nobody else is looking at you.

So, I’m trying. I’m taking baby steps to look out for my future self, one pair of socks at a time. What are you doing for you today?

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