Over the years, I have gotten so many different pairs of socks. All colors. Different styles, some high, some low, different shades of black, blue and whatever.  I have them all in a single “sock drawer” in my closet.  I get up in the dark of morning.  I have my cereal, blueberries and coffee then stumble up to shave and shower.  Then the challenge begins.  Finding two socks that match.  Now mind you, Donna and/or I will both fold laundry and squinch two socks into what seems to be a pair.  Great effort is expended in this regard.  Holding them up to the light.  Waiting until it’s sunny.  However, when I put on two socks in the morning, I sometimes find that I have a knee length sock on one foot and a sock that wouldn’t fit Tinkerbell on the other.  Great.  So I unsquinch another pair that looks similar only to find that one is dark blue and the other a mid-length black.  After several rounds of this, I come up with two socks that look alike.  And put them on.  My feet silently complain – they ain’t the same smart guy.  But I put on my shoes and go off to work.  I leave the unsquinched socks laying in the sock drawer waiting for the weekend for rehabilitation.   

Enough is enough.  This morning, I told Donna I plan to give all my socks to the Church rummage and start from scratch.  Go buy all new socks.  All the same kind, the same size, same style.  And with clearly discernible colors.  Black is black.  Blue is blue.  Pink is pink.   Anyway, I took the first step.  Mental resolution.  To “fix” this situation.  Buy new socks.  Donate the old ones.  It may take a while.  Maybe years.  But at least I now have a plan.