I recently pinpointed the cause for my disdain toward laundry. It all stems from the socks. I don't mind putting most of my things away, in fact, it gives me pleasure to see my drawers bustling and full. ( TWSS ). But the dang socks. They just rub me the wrong way. They stick to your underwear and tees, they're balled up and still wet , and the dryer always seems to snack on a few. They're the only items in your laundry that need to be paired up, so they take a lot of time to sort, fold and put away. So, to avoid my hatred of sock-sorting, I started just doing laundry and throwing them in a bin, thinking it couldn't be that hard to find mates as I'm getting ready in the morning. But, I was very wrong. In fact, it took so long that I often found myself just wearing mismatched socks rather than hunt through. Even Cheddar was stressed: he began carrying around way more socks than ever. So I asked Fowler if he had any suggestions for my sock woes , and alas, he did.