Six pairs of socks on a radiator.
Soon I will be leaving my home of eight years. I've been trying to get stuff sorted out. Washing and packing things that I won't need or use until I find my new home. This kind of readjustment is difficult for everyone to deal with, I know. For a sensitive artistic type it's nervous breakdown material. I'm hoping that the turmoil will provide fuel for drawing. Instead of being a distraction.
Yesterday I washed all my socks. Turns out I have over thirty pairs. How? Why? Because, I only ever where the stripey blue, the plain brown or the stripey brown ones. I don't think I've ever worn one of these six. Ever. Now that's obscene.