CSGL – Return of the Pile of Pants

Remember a few years back, when I wrote about the pile of mostly clean, partially dirty, stretched out just right pants that lived next to my bed?   

Well, it’s back, and it’s better than ever!

I woke up to my iPod this morning, something by Depeche Mode, and laid there hovering between sleep and wakefulness.  When I knew I couldn’t put it off a moment longer, I leaned over, grabbed hold of the first pair I could get my hand on, leaned back, pulled them up and on, and got out of bed.  

Of course, unlike the “good old days” I now have short hair, so I can’t just throw it in a ponytail and go anymore. 

Also, I now always make sure to eat breakfast.   Usually this is done leaning over the counter.   The time it would take to sit would cut into that fifteen minutes of  groggy that I enjoyed.

So, it takes about twice as long for me to get out the door.

But I’m getting back into my own old habits, instead of living the way someone else expected me to.   It’s not the same exact pattern, but it’s still mine.   

I’m going to be the biggest slob I want to be, because at the end of the day, I’m the one who lives this life in this and lives in this mess. 

And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let go of this again so easily.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Laundry Edition

If you’ve been following this blog at all, you know that I have been keeping pretty busy. Actually, that’s putting it lightly. I’ve been going going going so much that I barely see my apartment. It pretty much is just the spot where I crash and shower. I don’t even eat here so much.

Of course, as many people have pointed out, this isn’t necessarily a mutually exclusive symptom of single-ness. I just think, looking back on my relationships, that when you’re with someone, hanging out at one or the other’s place becomes an activity of it’s own. I don’t particularly care for sitting around by myself. It makes me either feel like a loser, a failure, or that I’m just missing out on lots of potential fun. I’d rather be busy.

So, I go out a lot. Band practice, piano bar, pirate party, jell-o shot party, drive-ins, dvds at the command center, Rudy’s, SNWMF, The Soul Captives playing, Maldroid playing, The Phenomenauts playing, and on, and on.

Then, when I finally do get home, exhausted, I fill up a glass of water, sit it next to my new alarm clock, plug my iPod into that new alarm clock, plug in my cell phone, and just as I’m crawling into bed, I slip out of my pants, and socks and leave them there . . . in the pile of other pants and socks that are next to my bed.

When I wake up, I drink some water, climb over the pile of laundry, and drag myself towards the shower, leaving what’s left of the clothes I wore yesterday on top of yet another pile that has come to live under the sink.

So, there’s been a pile of jeans and sox next to the bed, and a pile of underwear and t-shirts under the sink for weeks. Shoes are just about everywhere. And every week or so, I’ve done that one load of subsistence laundry with one pair of jeans, a few t-shirts, some socks, some underwear, and one towel. Then there’s also the overflowing hamper in the closet with all the clothes that I don’t want to wear often enough to be included in my subsistence load.

But even my laziness, craziness, and slovenliness has it’s limits. This morning I find myself with some down time, so I am doing about a metric butt ton of laundry.