Laundry Day is my nemesis.
I don't like dishes. I'm not the greatest at cooking. And I think making my bed is sort of ridiculous. I do it, but it's not my favorite thing. There's satisfaction in climbing into a well-made bed at least.
But laundry. Laundry is really what makes my blood boil.
My dear friend, Courtney swears that she has the world's most intense laundry situation, but she also has 3 kids under the age of 5. I think that if you have 3 kids under the age of 5, the government should just issue you an extra person for laundry and mopping alone.
Not me though. I have zero excuse. It's just me making (and ignoring) this mess.
Several things come into play when it comes to Naz vs. Laundry. Of course, there's the Bermuda Triangle of Socks. 10 socks go in, but only 7 come out. It's unnerving, but I have the bad habit of leaving my socks everywhere, so I can never be sure if 10 matching socks went in at once.
I'm not down with separating clothes either. I will be the first to admit that I am firmly against Laundry Segregation. Whites, colors -- we all mix in this house. Throw 'em in and put it on cold. And for all of you screaming about cold water, that's why they make the detergent SPECIFICALLY for cold water washes. God bless you, Tide, for understanding my needs.
Then there are the things that can't go in the dryer. Sweet buckets of love, I cannot tell you how many things I've ruined with the dryer. I will separate those out. Those things are typically pretty expensive.
Along with the sock trauma, I am also the world's worst at checking my pockets before stuffing clothes into the wash. I had to retire a whole load of t-shirts to a rogue lip gloss explosion in the dryer. Sharpie markers and highlighters and paper clips are constantly sneaking past me. Pro Tip: Highlighter will come out; Sharpie, not so much.
I also am a stockpiler. I have enough sheets and towels to last me at least 2 months. So, when the linen cabinet is bare, it's a whole day's work. I'm currently remedying this in the Great Closet Clean-out of 2013. Hopefully. Additionally, my laundry hook-ups are on a screened-in back porch. Because I live in Texas, there are only about 17 days a year where it's a normal temperature outside to turn on the dryer or not have the washing machine freeze.
Those things are a deterrent for lots of people I know, but in truth, they are only minor obstacles for me. Because I have to have clean clothes, I will force myself to do the wash eventually.
But the real problem is this: putting it away. I can fold t-shirts and match socks (sometimes). But going on the search and rescue mission for empty hangers in the closet is defeating. Picking it all up and then taking it to its rightful place in the closet or dresser is too much. It's like I just quit at the finish line of the marathon.
So, the clean laundry sits -- typically folded but not always -- in the basket or on the kitchen table or hangs over the backs of the chairs. I have been known to live out of my laundry baskets for weeks -- especially in the busiest parts of the school year. It's so embarrassing. But obviously not embarrassing enough to make me stop.
For the record, I'm also terrible about putting CD's or DVD's back in the correct cases or taking the clean dishes out of the dish drainer and placing them on their shelves. I'm a mess.
In one of my favorite movies, "Singles", by Cameron Crowe, one of the characters says this:
Janet: Well, when I first moved out here from Tucson, I wanted a guy with looks, security, caring, someone with their own place, someone who said “bless you” or “gesundheit” when I sneezed, you know. Someone who liked the same things as me but not exactly. Someone who loves me.
Steve: Tall order.
Janet: Yeah, I scaled it down a little.
Steve: Well, what is it now?
Janet: Someone who says “gesundheit” when I sneeze. Although I’d prefer “bless you” – it’s nicer.I'll just take someone who'll put the laundry away for me. Matching socks: optional.