"I Mussed My Pants"

I got a stain on my pants (sweat pants) and I can't get it out.

It's a very noticeable stain, otherwise, I wouldn't care.

But now I'm gonna have to take them to the dry cleaners and waste a very small amount of money trying to save them. It's already ruined my day and, probably, my entire life.

I hate clothes. I essentially wear the same basic inexpensive clothes every day, but I used to wear the exact same clothes -- the same outfit (there was only one) -- every day. I did this for two years straight, and I barely ever washed the clothes, too. It was fantastic! (I'm dead serious.) It was total freedom! I took a lot of heat for living like that, but I didn't care. Now people's comments about such matters affect me a lot more: I've lost my edge. 

I really miss those days. I had so much more confidence. I was a total animal. But now . . . 

So here I am, a coward worrying about his sweat pants. PATHETIC! 

It's like what Cougar says in "Top Gun" when he hands in his wings: "I'm holding on too tight. I've lost the edge. I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry."