Two clothing categories: Clothes that it matters if they’re wrinkled, and everything else. Category one goes on hangers, everything else goes in piles. If I’m out of GUFE (give a fuck energy), category one gets draped over a chair.
People that fold their underwear/socks/workout attire are the same as people who make their bed every day: Whyyyyyy bother.
“Damn, this is going to be a tough time for her. Better be sure to make zero effort to inject levity, or take her mind off it, or remind her that I’m also here to take responsibility for my part in this life we’re creating. She should remain 100% FOCUSED on how painful and humiliating this experience is for her. For the entire 20 hours she’s in labor. Just going to continuously remind her to keep breathing. So she knows how much I support her. Yup, that tracks.”
You must be a fun person to go through traumatic experiences with lol.