I hate doing laundry. It’s one of life’s real pains in the ass.

Wait, is that right? Or is it pain in the asses. No, that’s not right… I only have one ass. And laundry is a pain in it.

I put off doing it until the last possible day. When is that? When there are no more clean boxers. I’ll wear jeans multiple times, shirts multiple times, hell even socks two days in a row if I am in a real pinch. But boxers are the ultimate indicator of when it HAS to be laundry day. Sometimes you hear about dipshits who turn their boxers inside out to get an extra day out of them. That is just gross.

Not only do I hate doing laundry, but I suck at it. I have a tendency to shrink clothes. And not just any clothes… my favorite clothes. The clothes I like a lot and wear the most often. Ruined.

And a frustrating part is that they don’t necessarily shrink the first time I wash them… although that would really piss me off. Instead they wait awhile. I don’t get how I can wash a shirt four or five times without issues. Then suddenly out of the blue I do the exact same thing, using the same temperature water and use the same dryer settings and BAM – shrinkage.

Yeah… I know what you’re thinking. It’s not the chocolate making me fat – the clothes actually DO shrink. Though I do really like chocolate.

Yesterday I noticed that the dress pants I wore to work must have shrunk the last time I washed them. I didn’t notice it when I put them on because the waist was fine. It seemed to be just the length that shrunk.

While walking to get some lunch I passed a full length mirror… I looked like a dweebish, dorky, short-panted schmuck. Ugh. I spent much of the day trying to push them down on my hips.

That is very hard to do with dress pants by the way, especially while wearing a belt. So those pants are heading to Goodwill.

I’m such an idiot.

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