Thursday, January 7, 2010

Waiting for the laundry to dry so I can go to bed…

Beginning to feel like I’m drowning in laundry. I’ve got baskets—baskets—of the stuff waiting around for me to fold and put it away. It’s terribly wrinkled at this point and I have to wonder if my magic wrinkle remover stuff will ever get it wearable or if I’ll be forced to wash and dry it again or <gasp!> iron it.

God I hate ironing.

The laundry that isn’t in the baskets waiting to be folded and put away is in the floor, mostly between my bathroom and my side of the bed although quite a bit of it found its way to the closet floor. I look at it each morning, think to myself, ‘I’ve got to get some of this stuff taken care of tonight!’ and rush off to work. When I get home, I’m so spent that I just look at it, think to myself, ‘Maybe I’ll put a load on after I take a nap…’ and then I promptly forget it. Until bedtime. When I realize I have nothing to wear to work the next day.

God I hate laundry.

I mean, I don’t hate it as much as I hate dishes. At least, for the most part, it’s not terribly gross. It just never ends and it’s frustrating. I hate going through all the work to get clothes clean and put away just to know that in a week or so, I’ll be in exactly the place I am now, looking at piles of work, ready-made and mocking me in its never ending drudgery.

God I hate maintenance.

I just wish that something would stay fixed for an amount of time.


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