Sunday, March 14, 2010

The wrong socks

When I woke up this morning, I realised I'd worn the wrong socks to bed.  Apparently I'm the sort of person who has right and wrong socks for every occasion.  When and how this happened I do not know.  There are people out there who never think about such things, people who wear mismatched socks to yoga and even to work.  Maybe they are happier people. 

To clarify - stripey, colourful or otherwise "lively" socks can't be worn to bed lest they prevent a peaceful night's sleep.  The same goes for black socks which, as everybody knows, are nightmare inducing.  I do have a pair of bed socks, which I bought simply because they were called that.  I tried wearing them to bed but had to remove them because they made my feet too hot.

Makes me wonder what great things I could be doing if the socks part of my brain was freed to contemplate other things.  Imagine if my whole life I've been held back, not by a lack of positive thinking, but by thinking far too much about socks. 


tree shadow moon said...

Ah yes, you really are as mad as I, if not more so! I remember you chortelling at my porridge pan dilemna the other month, you sock-obsessee, you! mwhahahaa1 ;)
Well, I like your love of appropriate sockness, it's funky!

You make me giggle, thank you!

tree shadow moon said...

AAACCCEEEE new banner! Look at him there, I love that photo sooooo much!
Please hide behind a door and call out "baby Jake, baby Jake!" in a daft voice on my behalf!
Lots of love xxx

Anonymous said...

I realised a couple of weeks ago that all my socky sadness would be resolved if I just wore my husbands socks instead! What bliss! If you're a man then you're allowed to have socks that aren't straining to go round size 8 feet and NOT to have lurex stripes (that may look mighty cute but dig into your skin). I heart hubby's socks :)

Glovecat said...

Oh wow! I have EXACTLY THE SAME sock scenario in MY mind! I always save my bright stripey socks for gig days, to give me extra zing, and relish wearing the most BORING socks on the last day of a tour - the travelling home day. Boring socks mean that there's no pressure on me to be interesting, energetic or engaging in any way, I can just RELAX. Sometimes I find myself with the 'wrong' socks, and I fear that the whole day could go wrong. I usually end up wearing a slightly dirty pair of the 'right socks' in this case.

Oh dear, are we all going mad?

Tammy Hanna said...

You know what Em, you've just convinced me the sock thing is actually a sign of creative genius. ;-)

Glovecat said...

Phew - creative genius? - thank goodness for that! I almost signed myself over to the loony bin!

Not really. Funny (and a bit weird) though, isn't it? Somewhat superstitious? Gah. I like the creative genius bit though, makes it all worth while.