Some Call Them Annoying. I Call Them Endearing.

Yes, folks. I'm talking about my personality quirks. Just so you know that Helen Skor is a real, live, flesh-and-blood human being, I thought I would share with you a few of my idiosyncratic behaviors.

1. Laundry - I hate doing laundry, but I hate having dirty clothes even more. If I take something out of the closet to wear and I decide I'm either not in the mood for it or I look like an Orca with it on, off it goes into the laundry basket. Yes, I had it on for 30 seconds, but it has now officially been worn.
2. Ironing - I despise ironing. Not because the actual act of ironing is terrible. But because the whole process of getting out the ironing board and iron, filling the iron, draining the water from the iron, and putting the ironing board away when you're done is a big old pain in the butt. How do I solve this problem? About once a month, I sit down with a big old pile of clean laundry on a Sunday afternoon and iron for about 4 or 5 hours straight.
3. Closet Space - I need a lot of it, and luckily I have plenty in my place. I have two closets in my room. The left closet is neatly arranged from left to right: formal dresses, casual dresses, sweaters that need to hang, skooters, short skirts, capris, dress pants, long skirts. Naturally, these are subdivided by color. My right-hand closet is tops: button-ups for work, going out shirts, casual shirts, camisoles, dressy tanks. Again organized by color. (ROY G. BIV is a close personal friend of mine!).
4. My Underwear Drawers - I have two drawers in my dresser for underwear. The top drawer is for bras, and the next drawer down is for underwear. If you need proof of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you need look no further than these two drawers. I admit it . . . I fold my underwear. The good stuff goes in the front. The not-so-good stuff goes in the back. And if it's really not good, it goes in the trash, no matter how comfortable it is.

And these are just the weird things I do with my clothes. I think it has to do with the fact that I never really had a lot growing up. My parents weren't rich, but we also were never lacking anything that we needed. I wore my brother's hand-me-downs for years and years, so I always dressed like a boy . . . t-shirts and jeans all the time. But even then, my t-shirts were always ironed with military precision and carefully hung in the closet (but NEVER with wire hangers!).

These days, I am much more girly in my choice of attire. And, finally, I have "expendable income" to waste (I mean "invest") on my wardrobe. And I do a LOT of investing. Just ask Jo! But those old lessons die hard. So, in reality, I'm not OCD . . . just meticulous.