A lonely clean sock

Here's another prompt, this one from two years ago!

You are a single clean sock that gets left in the hamper and covered up with dirty clothes.

"I'm next. I'm next" I thought. Obviously it was my turn next. The pressure stacked on top of me all day had finally lifted. I was free! Any second now, she'd reach in, pick me up in her wonderfully wrinkled hands and help me find my soul mate.

I had survived another rustle in my master's worn-out shoe. I had kept my strings together throughout the school day, not once falling down around his ankles like some other socks did. I had not complained when he threw off the protective shell around me to wallop in the dirty sand at the park. I put up with the grittiness when back into my shell I went for the ride home.

Then, into the stink. I awaited my cleansing. This was always the hardest. The darkness. The pressure. The smell. The endless wait 'til laundry day. But, I'd made it! I swam with ferocity, soaking up as much cleanliness as I could, then bathing in the pure rinse cycle.

My favorite part was the heat. The warmth, the fluffiness. It was like I was flying. Gravity had no hold on me in there! And now, here it was, my turn to be handled individually, to find my match.

Any second now...

Okay, maybe tomorrow...

What? More pressure? And smelly ones at that!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!