This has been a source of strife at home. Oh, the girls don't mind, but the boss lady... she's gone off on a rant a time or three about how much closest space my t-shirts take up and how many hangers I use and how all of them should be folded and blah, blah, blah. She doesn't wear them. It shouldn't be that big of a deal.
Many of my t-shirts are memories in cloth. I have a bunch of boring t-shirts that are monochrome or ringers but the rest of them carry memories: memories of events, memories of times gone by, memories of friends.
Based on a feud with my special lady friend, ror the last year-ish I have been doing my own t-shirt laundering. I guess you could say it was the last straw (although the final hanger might be more apropos). I've been busy with rehearsals and the show run of The Secret Garden (2 weekends left; come see this fantastic little show) so my laundry didn't get done in what I would consider a timely manner. As a matter of fact, I wore all but a work-out t-shirt. I was down to one t-shirt on a lone hanger in my closet.
Tonight I did laundry. A fresh start if you will.
Tomorrow I'll start blogging my t-shirts. You'll see them. Here. And learn a little about the sentimental me (although you shouldn't expect a lot of sentimentality out of those ringers and monochromes).
