Ravings of a Textual Deviant

It was midterms week, and my stress level was stratospheric. Not the best time to take up a new hobby, but sometimes, you just have to do something—anything—or your head explodes.

By the end of the term, I’d learned to knit socks. Sort of. I had a couple-dozen “practice” socks with no mates. When it came time to pack up my dorm room, I couldn’t bear to throw them out.

Late one night, during finals, I sneaked down to the laundry room, and put a single, misshapen sock in every dryer.

I feel ever so much better now.

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 26th, 2006 at 8:07 am and is filed under 100 Words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.