bane (b
n) n. A source of persistent annoyance or exasperation
When talking about laundry to my husband, I typically describe it as the “bane of my existence.” No matter how hard I try to get it washed, folded, and put away, I typically fall short of accomplishing all 3 of those steps. Most often I get it washed, dried, and dumped on to our guest bed (which my husband now affectionately calls his dresser). Then in the morning when my family is looking for something to wear, I run downstairs, rummage through the pile and when I am lucky, emerge with matching socks (or at least close) and clothes for them to wear. Often I go downstairs to discover that the load in the washer was left over night or sometimes nightS and I have to rewash the load (so frustrating). On a good day I get the clothes folded and sorted into piles and once on a blue moon they get folded, sorted, AND (drum roll please) put away.
This was NOT that week.
The pile started on the guest bed and it grew….
I then moved it to my bed thinking that with it on my bed I would be sure to fold and put them away before going to bed that night.
Instead the pile got transfered to an overflowing pile in a basket in our room. After a few days this basket was moved to my living room with the new rationale that with the clothes sitting on our couch I would be sure to fold and put them away b/c I would be looking at them all day.
They stayed on the couch for 3 days.
Yesterday I got them all folded and put into piles. Unfortunately, everyone was napping when this occurred so I couldn’t get them put away.
As I sit and type this, they are sitting all nicely folded and in piles on our couch(of course my kids are awake, so we’ll see how long this lasts).
THIS is why I should not have started blogging.
UPDATE: This post was originally posted at 6:42pm. At 7:30 pm this picture was taken.
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