If It Ain't One Sock It's The Other

After doing a load of whites yesterday, this is how many socks that no longer have a spouse.

Six. Six socks.

Six.

Where in hell are the other six spouses living?

I just took a valium in order to decide what I'm going to do with these remaining divorcees. Still haven't a clue.

Your Bed Is An Anxious Place

This is a double, no triple post because two distinct areas of anxiety are covered by one troublesome asset: Your bed.

Issue one: Clean sheets. As somebody who relishes my own anxiety, there is no need to explain why. However, combine issue one with issue two--

Issue two: Honkin' mattresses. What the..? Why is this thing so big? When did top mattresses become a competition for the princess and the pea? Dear mattress industry: The future is doing things smaller. Duh.

Granted, a mattress beats futons, sofas, mats and/or the floor. But what's happened here is, top mattress have become so insanely large, that a team of four can longer get a bottom sheet on without the help of seven more. In turn, come laundry day, we sleepers are forced to reconcile our need for clean sheets with our disdain for fitting a bottom sheet back on.

It's a tough call. To make matters worse, the bottom sheet needs the most cleaning.

Yep. I've done it again. Let your heart rate rise, curse until the cows come home, because that bottom sheet was invented to give you anxiety. Blessed be us all.

Plants Are Death

Let me say this: Plants belong outside.

That said, why people bring them inside baffles me. It's like having a cat. You constantly care for them but they don't care back.

If you forget to water them, they begin their long drawn-out death process for which there is no return. Once they get thirsty, it's all over. Forget nursing your plant back to health. Your plant exists solely to cause you anxiety.

Which is, if you ask me, foolproof.

Rubik Mastermind

Not so fast.

I don't purport to have the ability to solve the elusive Rubik's Cube. Nor do I contend that the Rubik alone will give you a decent injection of anxiety.

But, and this a major but, if you can get your hands on the all-grey-toned Rubik's Cube, this puzzle will drive you over the brink of anxiety into nearby phobiaville because it is exceedingly difficult to see the different toned squares.

Good day.

Tupperware Is Not A Party

In fact, it's a no-fun zone.

Look at this picture! Does that look like a hat to you? Of course it does. That's because no matter what I do to retain matching tops and bottoms of tupperware, I can NEVER, and I mean NEVER find a suitable pair.

Life would never be this complicated without tupperware.

Thank the anxious bejesus that invented this product. Without it you'd store and transport food anxiety free. God forbid!

Netflixiety

Ten million people are lucky enough to have in common one thing: Anxiety over returning Netflix.

Back in the old days that anxiety was two fold, as we had to physically deliver movies to Blockbuster, or the like. However, Netflix claims to be anxiety-free by not charging late fees.

Tsk tsk, my anxious friends. We know that after a while, that red envelope sitting near the TV must be watched. We've opened it, gotten exciting about its contents, but not yet taken the time to watch it. And we know we won't be getting our next red envelope surprise until we sit for two whole hours and watch whatever movie that's been sitting there losing luster by the day.

It's as if just having the movie at the house makes it less desirable to watch. And knowing we can keep it forever makes it utterly unwatchable.

Foolproof ways to feel anxious: Get Netflix if you don't have it. For those of you who have the pricey unlimited Netflix accounts, pare down. And for those of you who watch movies regularly and return them, see another post on my blog. There's no need to relax 24 hours a day.

Sonicare

I've been using an electric toothbrush for many years now. I may be the first one to admit this: I can't stand being forced to brush my quadrants for 30 seconds each.

Some days I want to spend more time in one quadrant, and other days I want to spend less.

My relationship with my Sonicare has gotten so thick with tension, lately I'm beginning to lose the desire to brush my teeth at all. And, as a 3 times a day brusher, this is weighing heavily on my heart.

I look at my toothbrush while it rests in it's charger and wonder how I can dismantle the timing device to gain control of my teethbrushing once and for all. But I can't. I've tried.

These days, when I think it's time to brush, I get this anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that Sonicare is going to control my destiny for the next two minutes and I can do nothing to stop it.

If you do not own an electric toothbrush, and would like a toothpaste filled dose of anxiety, go buy one today.

Banana Hanger

Right. You thought your bananas were anxiety-free. Now you and I have something to worry about until we can get to the store and purchase the essential banana hanger.

Anxiety on the Move

We've all done it at one point in our lives... if not, five.

You are asked to help move your friend from one apartment to the next. I get this request more often than others. I have come to believe it's because the higher power knows it will cause me anxiety.

Breaking your friend's shit while doing them a favour moving is the foolproof path to anxiety.

We all have experienced that extra heavy couch or the awkward glass top for a coffee table. Or perhaps you've handled an "antique," or my personal favourite: the top mattress. Yes, moving the top mattress listening to someone scream, "don't tear it!", is a sure fire way to lose all muscle strength and drop the damn thing on the tip of a machete.

Look, I know it's Saturday. But don't worry, offer yourself up to a friend, or a friend of a friend who is moving by tomorrow, so you can get that daily dose of anxiousness you've somehow missed throughout the day.

Shavers, Razors, ooh la la!

I've reached a point in my life where even I am shocked about my own anxiety. I know, booey.

This is about shavers, razors, or whatever you use to remove hair from your body.

Name the brand, go ahead. Just know that whatever you buy will not work properly. The shaving industry has unwittingly sent all of us into an anxious zone revolving around their products.

I've seen all the commercials for Quattro, or slammo or bump free designo. I forget their names but one thing is clear: The more blades they shove into that tiny piece of plastic, the more confusing it becomes to get a good shave.

They should make a shaver called Hundie, by forcing a hundred blades into one shaver, which would get it all over with since clearly that's where the shaving industry is headed.

Until then, rest assured that purchasing blades is a foolproof road to anxiety.

Ice Trays

Know this-- there's one way to live up to your anxious heart's desire:

Fill an ice tray with water and do what you can to get it in the freezer without spilling most of it.

Remembering to open the freezer door before you transport the tray does nothing for you.

I would say they should redesign the trays, but then how would you get your daily dose of anxiety?

If your day has been anxious free, go fill your nearest ice tray.

Bedtime Tummy Talker

Ladies and gentlemen... drumroll please...

No, that's just just your stomach. Hungry late at night? Think about this: Why? What's the point?

The point is-- It's proof there is no god. You know if you eat something you are doing yourself a disservice. If you don't eat be sure to count how long you obsess until you fall asleep, if you can fall asleep at all. Some might call this temptation, but hell if you're hungry... Eat!

Knowing there is no god surely will raise your heart rate a little this evening.

Socks, You Little Devils

What the...? Is this being done by a munchkin that lives in the clothes dryer?

Look, I know some of you have had a relatively anxiety-free weekend. To remedy that problem by next weekend, do your laundry and fold your socks.

I bought one package of socks, and now, even after the miracle of losing none, they have managed to mismatch themselves via size change.

My left foot ain't bigger than my right, if that's what you're thinking.

You too can have anxious feet. Explore your sock drawer.

Mommy!!!

You're dead!.. or not.

That's the sound of your neighbor's kid running around your building shrieking. Mooommmyyy!!!

How many times do you have to jump out of bed because you are certain your recently single, single mother of two, is dead?

Well guess what? She's not. Her kids, however, are emotionally dead. Murderous screams are not fit for playtime.

Anxious sleep. It's the new frontier of anxiousness.

Because I know that I will never know whether or not my neighbor is dead.

Kitchen Garbage, eww.

We gotta talk.

Very few things cause such painful levels of anxiety as does the kitchen garbage. If you don't know what I'm talking about, perhaps you should find somewhere else to spend the next thirty seconds.

Garbage in the kitchen is... eww. I don't know what more to say. Mine is under the sink, behind a closed cabinet. As much as I try to control its grossness, it's still garbage, near my food, in my kitchen.

This my friends, is foolproof. If you think you have a reason to sleep soundly tonight, think again.

Case of the Missing House Fly

Be warned! This case remains unsolved!

Yesterday, a fly the size of my left foot whizzed by my perfect face and landed sideways on my bedroom window. This alone caused an anxious stir deep within me, as it would for you, I'm assuming. Depending of course on the size of your left foot.

What is cause for alarm, particularly what launched my career in the detective business, is the case of the missing fly. Where is that fly now? It never left my room, last time I saw the thing it was glaring at me through one of it's nineteen dozen eyes, and now I believe it to be somewhere where all missing house flies go.

The question remains-- where?

Take your anxious inner self and devote time today to solving this. Post a comment if you have the answer.

10:00pm

It's 10pm at this moment, which in itself is enough of a worry to live with. 10pm is the mother of all anxiety, because at 10:00 one must decide whether to start phase two of the evening, or relax, wind down and put on some jammys.

Feel comfort in knowing that 10:00pm is not only out to get you, but me as well.

Viva anxiety!