As I sit here flipping through Pinterest and Instagram looking for laundry-related quotes, I realize that there is a load of towels in the washing machine that I forgot about three days ago.
I should probably do something about that, but like, I kind of don’t want to…
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There is this tiny, irrational part of me that says they should just stay where they are.
As though maybe, by not “finishing” my previous load of laundry, I’ll somehow fend off the next one.
Of course, my rational brain knows that’s silly and is very aware that the hamper in my bedroom is beginning to look full again, but a girl can dream, can’t she?
My rational brain also knows that I should probably just toss more detergent in there and wash the towels again.
By now, they’re going to be all funky-smelling from being enclosed and damp. Ew.
So I’m not really saving myself a load. I’m actually adding one. Woo.
But if I do that, then I’ll have to put away those towels too.
Why is folding a few things so much harder than the actual cleaning of said things?
Why does my brain automatically check the chore off the to-do list as soon as the basket has made it up the stairs?
It’s completely irrational, and yet here I am, moving the basket off my bedroom chair to sit and then moving it right back afterwards.
And don’t get me started on sheets. It takes me so long to get around to finally folding them and putting them away that it’s time to wash the ones on the bed again and I should just give up and swap between the two sets of wrinkled linens.
