At some point, 'Screw it I'll just buy more clothes' is no longer an option. The things now living under your pile of socks are only going to get smarter unless you suck it up and go get your clothes washed.
Unless you're living somewhere with a washer and dryer, you'll need plenty of quarters to fund your laundry excursion. Due to an unhealthy fondness for skee-ball, these quarters tend to disappear around the same time your clothes start smelling terrible, so if you don't have some small bills for your laundromat's change machine, you'd better just give up. To get the required bills may involve trips to the ATM, (fucking fees) the bank, (fucking closed) or a local convenience store (fuck). This seems like an awful lot of work for the 21st century. By now shouldn't there be a way to just tap bills and they'll go *ffttt* and *poof* perfect change?
So now that you've wasted most of the day securing your quarters, you'll also need to secure things like detergent, fabric softener, and if you're fancy, other products like bleach and stain remover (you disgust me). As soon as you arrive at the laundromat, it's time to figure out how you're going to do this without whichever of those items you inevitably forgot. Next comes separating out your lights from darks, and the delicates from the uh.. robusts? And in this case separate actually means cram as many clothes as you possibly can into into the smallest available washing machine. People that concern themselves with anything besides "Will this all fit?" or "Will they let me come back after this?" probably already have a washer and dryer at home.
"Point me to an available single load washer please!"
After you're done cramming your clothes into an unrecognizable ball of neglect, you can relax (you've earned it) and let the machine do its thing for a little while. Then it's time to pull your clothes out and transfer everything to the dryer. Oh all the dryers are in use? No worries, once the next dryer finishes, surely the owner of those clothes will promptly remove them.
On to the drying! If your laundromat has one of those flat rate dryers for an hour, good for you! If instead you have a dryer that gets you 7 or 8 minutes for 25 cents, then you're about to fuck everything up. While 32 minutes might be enough time if your load is say, one sock, chances are it won't quite cut it for the profuse pile of clothes that by now can probably beat you at arm wrestling. But you're going to go for the bear minimum of time anyway aren't you? Go ahead, set the dryer to the hottest possible cycle, as if your clothes are going to come out anything besides "Hot. Still pretty wet though."
Congratulations! Your laundry is finally done. It's time to bask in the glory of not having to do it again for "definitely no longer than two weeks" (at least a month). Like the completion of any chore, the resulting drastic spike in your self-image is sure to lead to some poor decisions, the first of which being to hold off on folding for now. A few days will go by and the non-wrinkly benefits you would have gotten from promptly folding your clothes are gone.
Soon the situation spirals out of control. The clean clothes inadvertently get mixed with the dirty ones, the "flip the underwear inside-out" trick will no longer be a viable option, two months worth of socks somehow get used up in a matter of days, and before you know it, it's time to do your laundry again.