In my Thursday morning time off, I had a strong urge to sit. Just sit. Oh, sure, I also wanted to watch Downton Abbey again (so glad it’s back!). But mostly, I wanted to be stationary.
Thank goodness, I drank so much coffee that it eventually catapulted me off of the couch and towards the dirty dishes. Now, with one load of laundry folded and put away, another load in the washing machine, clothes picked for work, the kitchen cleaned, and the dishes done, I can sit for a few minutes. And now it’s happy sitting, not disheartened sitting. There’s a big difference.
My favorite Scott flannel, clean and folded.
I don’t think I figured out any magic to getting things done in my off time, but I do know it all started with getting off of the couch. Unfortunately, there’s this adorable warm dog who practically lives on the couch. He’s like a magnet of cute, pulling me towards the couch of stationary being. Oh well. Today, I pulled off a victory against the cute. Mwah ha ha.
The pull of the cute is so strong!
For some reason, I used to think that if I lived in one place long enough to finish a box of dryer sheets, I would have been there forever. I mean, that would be truly settling down.
In case you need some perspective on what that means time-wise, I’m pretty sure I was using the 40-sheet boxes of dryer sheets at the time. I couldn’t imagine being in one place for more than approximately 30 weeks. Between moves back home, to new dorms, and to various summer destinations, things worked pretty well within that framework through college. Life was mobile, and home was where I found a pillow. I liked it that way.
Around that same time, my life plan was to be an international gypsy. I would be a Hannah-like gypsy, of course. Instead of being known as a pick-pocket, I would get whatever job I could in a town and stay for a while. (Work papers? Nah. Those are totally mythical. Language barriers? Also mythical.) Then I would pick up and try out the next place I felt like seeing. It was the perfect plan until I bought a couch and a dog. They were the beginning of the end.
I sat down yesterday in my annual review at work and realized that it was in fact the second review I’ve had at this job. Not only have I started buying the larger boxes of dryer sheets, I’ve also come to a place where I have no idea what or when my next move will be. I’ll let you know how I feel about that when I find out. In the meantime, I need to come up with a unit of measurement that doesn’t involve laundry (or years… I can never keep track of them).
Compared to most household chores, I really like doing laundry. I like how it smells when it comes out of the dryer and the warmth of the clothes for those first thirty seconds or so. I also feel like I’ve accomplished something with relatively little effort. Other than the folding factor, it’s okay.
That doesn’t mean I’m always on top of the laundry situation, however. For the last week or two, there have been other things that need to be done with my non-work time. So in honor of having more clothes in my dirty clothes pile than in my closet, here are some signs that I (or possibly you) need to do laundry:
- I’m wearing a fancy black dress to work today. Yeah, it definitely wasn’t intended to be worn to the office. On the bright side, I could go to the opera right after work and be appropriately dressed. In reality, I’ll be walking my dog.
- I’m not quite there yet, but I have previously worn the bottom half of a bathing suit when all other underwear options are gone. It’s really a pretty good alternative. Sorry if you didn’t want to know that.
- Breaking out clothes from 10th grade is rarely a positive thing. Sure, it was cute at school in 1999. That doesn’t necessarily mean it will work for the office in 2010.
- Then there are the days when you put things into “adventurous” combinations that you wouldn’t ever wear together if you had any choice. Getting close to that line today.
- I’ve occasionally decided that the shirt lying at the bottom of the dirty clothes pile really isn’t that dirty after all and worn it again. That’s pretty low on my list of favorite things to do.
- And last but not least, remembering to pick up my dry cleaning happens right about now, when I realize that I do own two more pairs of clean pants that are being held hostage on 21st Street. I never remember to pick up dry cleaning when I still have pants in the closet.
Hopefully I’ll find myself inspired to do laundry before I get to the stage of looking through the dirty clothes for the not-so-dirty. In the meantime, I’ll dazzle patrons with my fanciness.