The Great Sock Hop

The Great Sock Hop was held July 21st, at 7:13 p.m. Socks from all walks of life arrived with the hope of finding their sole mate. For some, it was love at first sight- "Another tall brown striped just like me!". Others, after some sizing up, found solace in a similar type, worn in different places, but the same shade of grey. A few had holes beyond repair, and spent the entire time skulking on the periphery. All in all, of the 49 attendees, 28 found their match, and the other 21 marched single file to the tune "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake into sock heaven.

**********************************************************************************
Why do we do that? No, not write goofy things about all the lost socks that crowd the drawers, but keep them hanging around? Or anything for matter- stained t-shirts (more than one to paint in and to color hair in, exceptions for those with toddlers who finger paint), ripped underwear, mugs with broken handles and games missing pieces?

I could tell you what I think. But so could Suzie Orman! I love Suzie. She's got BALLS. She's super smart, tells it like it is, and gets the emotional side of money too. Suzie says (in her Courage to be Rich book) it is ultimately about being afraid there won't be enough. Fear of scarcity. Most of us grew up with this thinking since our parents or grandparents went through the Great Depression, hoarding string and empty jars and later margarine tubs. It's quite interesting to observe how we pick this stuff up without even realizing it.

Ms. Orman has an exercise to go through your house and THROW OUT ALL THE BROKEN, MISMATCHED, and NOT USED ITEMS NOW. That's right, the off shades of lipstick, the yellow sweater aunt Martha gave you 2 Christmases ago, the bobble head George Bush Jr. the office gave you as a joke. (Ha, Ha, thanks guys...)

This was a great exercise for me. I did it when I was pregnant about 20 months ago. I cleared out bags of junk I didn't even know I had! I am not sure if I missed the socks that time around (possibly, given the hormonal swings and inability to focus I suffered from) or if that many socks had gone missing in the last 20 months (providing further proof that the sock eating monster that lives in the dryer is REAL).

At any rate, it's time to do it again. The sense of satisfaction I got from hosting the Great Sock Hop and reuniting pairs of loved ones incites me to action.

And I can't find anything in my basement again.