Panty Thief

Okay, this is going to sound completely paranoid and crazy, but I'm pretty sure someone in my apartment building is stealing my underwear. Yes. You heard me correctly. My underpants have gone a missin'.

M.I.A.

This is becoming super annoying, because I'm running out of options here. After every shower, I go to grab a pair out of my drawer, and only come up with a wad of socks. If things progress at this rate, I might have to buy a magnifying glass, put a "lost" sign up in the building complete with a picture, and dust for finger prints.

And going all natural isn't going to happen, by the way. I'm not going to become "the girl who doesn't wear panties." That's just not me. I can deal with being the girl who wears socks with sandals, or the girl who doesn't wash her hair for three days, but this panty business has to be remedied.

Before I get my panties in a knot (heh heh) let's think about who would do this. (For the record, I know I'm not imagining this. And I've done all the laundry, and even checked in Amelie's room. They are just gone, baby, gone.)

I'm going to use my super-detective-skills:

1.) This must be a woman (I hope)
2.) She is a size small/medium who appreciates 100% cotton from Target.
3.) She is desperate.
4.) So, she might be a struggling artist, college student or actress.

Can I just point out, how gross it is to wear another woman's underwear? That's our lady-bits down there, people! "Our junk", or as I like to say, our "girly-goods." Ain't nobody else's underwear gonna touch my stuff.

You see, this is the problem with having a shared laundry room. People don't clean the lint traps, they leave their wet clothes in the washer after they're done, and they splash bleach everywhere, ruining other people's clothes. And now, I can add "your panties might be stolen" to the growing list of negatives, as if I needed another reason to hate living in an apartment.

Now, I have to go to Target and restock. So, thanks a lot, panty thief. Thanks a lot.