Decoding laundry, going in circles and getting heavy

Dear Rachel,

Laundry tag care instructions are absolutely indecipherable. How are those rows of icons supposed to make any sense? I get using icons because you can’t fit enough words on a little tag. But they’re not intuitive at all! There has to be a better way. Do other people just know what these things mean? Or are we all just fumbling about in the dark with our darks? Show me the light before I do another load of whites.

– Airing My Laundry

Dear Laundry Illiterate,

I was at a friend’s house getting something out of the laundry cupboard. They have a whole Rosetta Stone on the door! Rows and rows of laundry tag pictograms, each with their definition. My first thought was, “Oh, those things mean something?” My second thought was I knew I would never bother to look up the right icons. I just know not to put new red clothes in with my wools, or something like that. Good enough for me.

– Spin cycling, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

My tire store tells me it’s not safe to drive on my tires once they hit 4mm tread. The warranty on my tires will replace them, but only once they wear down below 4 mm. So I essentially have to drive my tires until they’re unsafe before I can save money on new ones. How does this make sense?

– Worn Down

Dear Bumpy Ride,

Ah, the great American conundrum: how can we ever hope to re-tire? Big Tire just wants to milk you for every dollar. If you value your life, you’ll spring for new tires on your own. If you try to go for the warranty, you’ll use up the warranty before you get there. You can’t win, unless you get out of the tire game altogether. We’re overdue for flying cars anyway.

– An old retread, Rachel 

Dear Rachel,

I swear I’m going to eliminate clutter and simplify my life. Maybe not right this second, but before I move again. Pretty sure I’ve worn out all my friends with trucks. No one wants to lift another box of books or rocks for me. But when it comes down to it, I can’t seem to part with any of my heaviest things. It’s becoming a weight on me, literally. How do I convince myself to let things go?

– Heavy Burden

Dear Heavy Hoarder,

Our physical world reflects our inner state. Your friends might see you as a heavy burden. I see you as an awesome person. Anyone who likes books and rocks is a friend. Not the help-you-move kind of friend, of course. But the kind of friend who will never judge you for hoarding rocks and books, lest you judge me for my own rocks and books. Neither requires actual people! Which is good, because I can’t go in public, ever since I ruined all my clothes in the wash.

– Lighten up, Rachel