I would swear to you that I turn my clothes right-side-out when I take them off and put them in the hamper. And yet, every laundry day I find myself taking all of my inside-out clothing from the dryer and turning it right-side-out properly before putting it in the dryer. I could easily shave three minutes, maybe four, from my total laundry time if I ever in fact did what I keep thinking I do anyway.
File under mysteries of laundry.

Not only did I gap and put my bras in the washer, I also gapped and put them in the dryer. Now whatever one I put on is going to be slightly too tight for the first hour or two that I wear them, and I will subconsciously feel like I have put on slightly more weight than I think I have. That feeling will not fade, and even after it has slightly stretched back to being just-right, I will be slightly pissy and slightly depressed all day.
File under mysteries of women.

After a decade of marriage, I should either ask my beloved why it is that on any given laundry day, his portion is at most 25% of mine, or just stop wondering how he can go through a whole week using fewer pairs of socks & underwear than I.
File under mysteries of men.

I fold his shirts differently than mine. His way is slightly faster and IĀ could easily shave three minutes, maybe four, from my total laundry time. But I like how mine get folded, showing the printing/icon/cartoon on the front of the tshirts and I secretly think his way is kind of sloppy and I hate that crease running down the middle you end up with. He likes how his gets folded for some reason that makes sense to him. So there it stands.
File under mysteries of marriage.

Where the hell is that other sock? I know I had matched pairs of socks when I put them into the washer. I checked the washer thoroughly, even that weird icky gap under the drain gasket. I checked the dryer thoroughly, even that fuzzy gap by the lint trap. And yet, I do not have matched pairs of socks now.
File under mysteries of the universe.