Finals.
How is it possible that I haven’t done laundry in so long that I don’t even have a single pair of clean underwear? I have a lot of fucking underwear, I didn’t think running out of clean pairs was possible.
Suboptimal.
I suppose commando it is. Lest you think that that’s “sexy”, think for a second that there’s a reason people put a cotton barrier between their gentle bits and and the less-than gentle texture of jeans.
So, jeans - going for the chafed bits thing - or a dress/skirt - going for the slutty high school cheerleader thing.
This very issue is how I discovered the biggest perk of having a boyfriend: a perpetual source of clean underwear.
The first time I tried this, I was skeptical but desperate. And as it turns out, men’s underwear is made to fit slimmer hips than those of most girls, so the fact that I’m about a woman’s size 4 and my boyfriend is, well, not, turned out to be less of an impediment than I thought it would be. And the extra bagginess in the other regions is somewhat mitigated by how the fabric is distributed as a result of having wider hips. Tight jeans are probably out with this trick, but it works perfectly in any other situation.
(Fuck finals. One fucking more to go.)
