What happens when you think that the "delicates" on the dryer equates "your clothes will get dried gently"? This:

Space never seemed so essential back home.

And no, I'm not ninny enough to wash my shoes in the washing machine. The kitchen receives the most sun in the morning, perfect for drying "half-ruined-from-a-sudden-downpour-right-when-you-decide-to-visit-Repulse-Bay" shoes. But that's another story for another entry of the Ninny Diaries.

Dry dammit, dry. I'm out of underwear.