I'm moving in little over two weeks.
I haven't done laundry in probably more than two weeks. I have a very large collection of underwear. This is both a blessing and a curse- in that it enables me to not HAVE to do laundry for a long time, but then also leaves me with an almost herculean task when, finally, its either wear the frilly silly lacey dumb thong thing you got for that, in the end, useless boyfriend, or do your damn laundry.
A note on underwear: there is absolutely no such thing as "the very last pair". This is the line of thinking that goes something like this- "ok well, its already too late/early too do my laundry now, so today/tomorrow I can get away with wearing these [lacey, frilly, ridiculous underwear] but then THATS IT, because these silly things are the very last pair left."
I had my very last pair a few days ago. And in the effort spent not doing my laundry, I have redefined and reevaluated what makes a very last pair of underwear. It appears that I will suffer the most uncomfortable, or most ridiculous underwear ever, in order to not clean the rest. I will take out those old boy shorts that were so hot at V's Secret a few years back, blow the dust off, and wear em. I will take a second look at the pink polka doted satin and lace contraption that isn't meant to be worn for longer than 30 minutes and spend the entire day fearing that this will be the day I finally get hit by a car and have to go to the hospital for emergency brain surgery leading to that enormous struggle against despair and overcoming the most insurmountable odds in order to walk again, but first, everyone will see- pink polka dots on satin with lace trim. I will even eye the thong, regardless of the fact that since buying the thing I have come to form the revolutionary counter-thong movement because EVERY WOMAN LIES WHEN SHE SAYS THEY GET COMFORTABLE. It never gets comfortable have a piece of clothing up your ass. You don't get used to it. You really would rather have a wedgie.
Today, I will admit it, its hot pink and its mesh.
And really, it is absolutely the last pair. Technically- I have two more options left, but they are so not options as the word option is defined by normal well-adjusted people, of which I try very hard to be every day. These have to be the last pair. If these aren't the last pair, then I think I may really have to reevaluate my entire belief system, order in the cosmos as I understand it, and the existence of God, man, and the tooth fairy, in order not to do laundry tonight.
Along with the moving thing, this scares the shit out of me.