The other morning, I got ready for the workday, slipped into my just 2 weeks worn sweatpants, treated myself to a fresh shirt and started my day at the PC. In my one-room apartment it’s not always easy to combine work and everyday life, every break needs to be used well. While my colleagues enjoyed their lunch, I used the time for a round of laundry. There wasn’t much there, but even relaxed “home office clothes” want some freshness at times.
Sweatpants by sweatpants, underpants by underpants and sock by sock I took out of the washing machine. Up until that moment, my life seemed to make sense despite all the non-concerts, non-restaurant eating, non-shopping aisles – but then the shock. The chili socks, such a precious gift from ad pepper, had apparently parted ways behind my back. Left sock was still there, right sock was nowhere to be found. She had gone on her socks… ;)
There I stood now and tried to bear the situation with composure.
So many loners I have already picked up, stowed away, in the sock drawer under the bed. Also for my little Chili Sock it was now so far, she had to lie down to it. You wash some, you lose one.
Why is it that socks always disappear?
Have the two simply grown apart? Is it time for them to go their separate ways? Can they just not smell each other anymore? Or do the sock monsters really exist, as my niece always wants me to know? I’ve had to say goodbye to many socks and comfort those left lonely, how many millions must there be worldwide? Why is it that no one is addressing this fate?
Some scientists from Great Britain have investigated the phenomenon and have discovered something quite astonishing: Each of us loses on average up to 15 socks per year and thus over 1000 socks in a lifetime. In order to be able to calculate the sock loss mathematically, the researchers have developed the Sock Loss Index.
Why am I sharing this painful “lonely chilli sock” moment? Because I want to say appreciative words to my mom, who wisely gives new socks every Christmas. Thank you!