Hey, babe, if you need me, and you called a bunch of times and texted and said that nobody can seem to find me because I’ve seemingly disappeared off the face of this earth, then I’m probably just buried under a pile of laundry somewhere in this house.
Please check under the 10-foot-tall mound composed of several layers of baby clothes, bath towels, and 15 pairs of stretchy black leggings.
I was reading through some old journals from college and my early 20s the other day, and I was constantly talking about how I had laundry to do, but back then it was single girl bachelorette laundry, and I’d bring a duffel bag with one or two loads in it to the laundromat across the street, and that was it. It would be like, “OH! I gotta waste two hours doing laundry,” but now that I live with three little animals — a very fluffy cat, a toddler who loves decorating herself and her clothes with food and/or crayons, and El Hub, of course — the laundry is next level, and it runs my world! I can’t escape it.
And even though it’s like I’m always doing laundry, and the washing machine runs almost 24/7 sometimes, I can never get ahead on it, which is totally weird.
I used to save it all for Saturdays, but then I’d be kinda grumpy because I was doing laundry all weekend long, so I switched to doing a load every day during the workweek, but that hasn’t made it any easier. I think it may have actually resulted in even MORE laundry. The laundry’s multiplying, LOL!
There’s always hand towels, bath towels, blankets, so many stinky socks, baby leggings covered in dried yogurt, my shirts, which are always covered in cat fur. It a never ends…
I mean, I’m not complaining… Actually, yes I am. I’m totally complaining, haha! 🙂
I’m lucky to have a working washer and dryer in the house, and I’m grateful that I don’t have to go down to a river and wash things on rocks, which is what my mom says she had to do when she was young, so I guess this is a good problem to have… But it just never ends, ahhh! As we speak, there’s a load in the washer and another one waiting in my room.
If you need me, I’ll be under an avalanche of mismatched socks.
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,