I seemed to have ruined the majority of my clothes and a minority of Sarah’s. Either some dolt left an ink pen somewhere it shouldn’t have been, or the Blue Man Group did an extended show in my dryer. In reality, I have no idea where the pen came from: I checked all pockets before washing, so either there is a dolt, or someone was being very malicious.

I didn’t really have many clothes to begin with: I recently gave about 80% of my belongings (i.e., clothes) to Goodwill (to simplify before our move), but it didn’t help that I was drying almost everything I now own. As it stands, I believe that I’m sufficiently pared down: my respectable clothes are now limited to 2 pairs of pants, zero pairs of shorts, and about 5 shirts. My winter clothes are still intact (I wasn’t washing them: it doesn’t get cold here), and I don’t really mind that my gym stuff and underclothes make me look like a sad Dalmatian, but, at the very least, I’m going to have to buy a pair of shorts.

For those of you thinking, “I know what someone’s getting for Christmas!”, may I be the first to say, don’t even think about it: everything will be replaced by week’s end.

Sarah’s casualties were slightly more limited: ironically, her losses were mostly clothes that already had stains, which I was attempting to get out by washing them with my heavily dosed (with detergent) loads. Where we differ, though, is that Sarah would love to have people give her clothes for Christmas.