The lousy life of laundry

HATE.

I know, I know it’s a very strong word, but it’s the only word I can think to describe the biggest source of contention in my life.

That thing? Laundry.

Seriously, it’s the absolute worst.

It just sits there waiting for days in that stupid basket, spilling onto my floor, taunting me with it’s inevitable need to be tossed into Satan’s white instrument of destruction aka the washer and his ominous side-kick, the dryer.

Ugh, even thinking about it now is making me angry.

This whole laundry business has gotten out of hand.

It has invaded my life where it was not wanted.

It has rewarded my hours of care with next to nothing, because while I slaved for hours sorting, washing, drying and folding, it is still not done!

Why? Because someone still needs to put it away, and that just seems like it’s asking a little too much.

I don’t have that much to give you, laundry. Quit being so needy.

Also, it’s not a one-time thing either… it must be done every single week.

Laundry is like the more sinister and spiteful version of the movie Groundhog’s Day.

Just replaying over and over until eventually someone (me) goes absolutely nutty and decides to just become a nudist. Umm, scratch that, that life sounds itchy.

Laundry steals so much valuable time. It’s like a giant black hole, sucking seconds and minutes and hours into an invisible time warp that sucks up my whole day without me even realizing it.

It’s taunting scream ringing through my home every time a cycle concludes.

Growing up, I used to watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch. She had the most amazing magical powers, obviously, because she was a witch. One of her impressive skills was that she could just point at her clothes and then would automatically change.

There was never any follow up on where the old ones vanished to, where the new ones came from so, I can only imagine that they were automatically, magically laundered, folded and put back perfectly, ready for wear the next time she needed them.

So, that is essentially my life goal. To have magic complete all laundry related tasks.

So for now I will just tell you this, I need a break from you, laundry.

It’s not me, it’s you. You’re a soul-sucking beast that robs me of the little time I have to myself.

And trust me, I have more than enough people and things stealing my time and space.

I have more than enough people in my life trying to making a mess of things. I don’t need another, even if it’s just a pile of sweaty socks that smell like rotting skunks.

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