Mystery of the errant skivvies
Posted on December 22nd, 2009 –
*shoomp* and there goes Monday.
I remember standing there in front of my laundry going, “what the hell?” I’d been folding clothes, literally, all night. I was mighty disappointed; I was supposed to have cleaned the living room on Monday, bedroom on Tuesday, hose down the fridge on Wednesday, sandblast the washroom on Friday afternoon, and irradiate the whole flat on Saturday before the folks visit. And fit in the occasional blog post too. Laundry was supposed to be the warmup.
Oh god, the folks visit. Now they’ll see the slum I’ve been inhabiting. I’ll have to explain why I’m paying over a thousand a month for this place. Nightmare. At least it would be clean when they dropped by! Unless I didn’t manage to keep to schedule at every step. Unfortunately, I’d already stumbled. Fuck, and on a Monday too.
Okay, so another problem emerged. Holy … frickin’ … cow … WHAT HAPPENED TO MY UNDERWEAR?! I’m freakin’ out, man! I swear, I had like twelve pairs. I spent the entire night gathering every scrap of clothing I could find … hence the lengthy folding session. But the result?! ONE PAIR!! (plus the pair on my ass). Now, c’mon, seriously. I could see two or three going wayward, and especially at my place. But now, with all the clothing on the shelf, there’s only ONE?! ONE?!?!
Think, think … Where were you? What were you doing? Who were you talking to? Who had a chance to manhandle your laundry? Something’s going on here, I can feel it. Something’s not right.
First, I gotta calm the hell down. Everything will be aaaaalright; for the visit, we’ll just have to seal half the apartment. No, that’s fine, no bathroom – folks will just have to hold it, I guess. And kitchen’s for lookin’, enter … at your own peril. Good, no, that’s fine. That’ll work.
You know the book, The Secret? You know, where the chick states that by really wishing for something, you can make it happen? Yeah … it doesn’t work. I did the whole lotus pose and wished my ass off. To absolutely no avail. So then I tried moving around; that worked way better.
Okay, so it’s Tuesday and we still have a tremendous bedroom to deal with. Tremendous. Bitch. I think I’m going to have to truck a bunch of stuff into storage. All the stuff I don’t want. Then I’ll just simply forget to put the lock on – hey, you never know, maybe someone’ll break in and steal this crap. Why not help ‘em out a bit, you know? Christmas ‘n all.
Tomorrow, I begin lifting furniture to get at the stuff underneath. Oh God, I can’t even imagine. The horror. Think I gotta shave Ollie too; jerkface won’t stop losing fur. Savage little beast. And the way he eats … grrrr!
But it’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine. Especially once I solve the mystery of the lost underwear. I’m going to have to retrace every step, work all the angles, follow all the trails. And when I find whoever stole them, *KA-POW*, right ‘n the kisser! I mean, what other explanation could there possibly be? It’s simply a matter of finding out who did it. Possibly even why.
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December 22nd, 2009 11:18 pm
Hahahahaha! Thanks for making me laugh. Also, sad to say, but my house looks a lot like this too, and yes, I also pay too much for my house.
December 23rd, 2009 12:59 pm
Don't let these photos fool you, Blia, this room is "the clean one". The bedroom and, *gasp*, bathroom are the stuff of nightmares.
December 23rd, 2009 1:26 am
LOL! Underwear thief on the prowl. Are you sure Ollie didn't eat them? Maybe it smelled a wee bit edible to Ollie? Explains the loss of fur.. :P I hate cleaning up.
December 23rd, 2009 1:03 pm
I have a few theories about the missing underwear, Angel. Unlikely that it's Oliver — as you can see in the photos, he's well-fed. I suspect it's either my childhood sleepwalking resurfacing in an interesting new way, or it's the squirrel that's been sneaking into my apartment to hoard his margarine containers in my dirty laundry (the margarine thing is 100% true, just haven't caught him in the act with my camera yet). This second option would imply that my boxers are lining some wintry rodent den — I don't like to think such dark thoughts though.
December 23rd, 2009 7:58 am
The culprit might be the same evil entity who has been making off with single socks from our house for many years. Plus they also have some blue pants that I know I packed when we moved from Boston. But they disappeared when we crossed back into Canada, I swear.
My parents were always horrified at our various houses/apartments. I should have hired one of those people who fix your house when you're about to sell it – I forget the name but they make you put all your stuff in storage and put out vanilla candles and things.
You could get one of them in. And they might even be able to find your underwear..
December 23rd, 2009 1:07 pm
As always, Lidian, an outstanding idea. Unfortunately, I can't afford to hire the cockroach under my fridge at the moment so unless these people offer their services for free, I gotta do for myself :(
But you know, now that you mention it, I've been noticing an increasing number of single socks piling up on my shelf. Maybe this isn't isolated. Maybe there are larger forces at work. Maybe my theories aren't as "crackpot" and "dangerous" as the criminal psychologists suggest.
December 23rd, 2009 4:35 pm
Oh my goodness that made me laugh. Please do not fail to let us know who the underwear thief is. I have a suspicion it's your cat.
December 25th, 2009 3:10 pm
I will definitely keep you posted, Kato :) Yes, there's a very real possibility that Ollie indulged.