You how some folks say they have a mountain of laundry to do but then that mountain turns out to be a small-ish hill, and not mountain like at all? I hate those people. Jparks and I truly have mountain of laundry to deal with and it's existence has been eating away at my soul for weeks. WEEKS, I tell ya! Laundry is just not something that either jparks or I have any interest in.
Actually, that's a lie. I love the laundering part of doing the laundry. I love sorting pieces into piles: dark colors, pastels, whites, bleachable whites, gentle cycle items, no fabric softener items, items that need to go into these awesome mesh bags that you can only find at Japanese dollar stores, etc. It's a sickness really. I love filling the washer and measuring out the detergent. It all appeals to the OCD side of my personality. But once the items come out of the dryer I want nothing to do with them. And that's where our mountain of laundry comes into play.
We have a hamper tucked into a corner for our dirty laundry but no real spot for clean laundry. Why should we? Shouldn't it go directly from drawer to closet? ha. In order to accommodate our laziness we have added an ugly plastic hamper to our bedroom and all the clean laundry gets deposited right into it. And then more gets deposited. And then some more. Until we have this:
Cat included in picture for scale. And I know she's blurry, but look at that tongue! OMGZ!!1!
Dude, that pile of laundry is almost as tall as our dresser. And notice that it is spilling over and spreading onto the floor. That pile of laundry contains all of jparks' socks. And possibly all of my underwear. And probably all of jparks' shirts. But do we care? Does it motivate us to fold it? Hell no! It does, however, motivate us to wish for magic laundry folding elves. And jparks will regularly wish for the ironing fairy to come so he has shirts to wear to work.
The real pain in the ass part is that, by the time I cave and start folding and ironing, I have at least 8 hours of work ahead of me. You would think that would motivate me to fold as soon as the stuff comes out of the dryer, but it doesn't.
Maybe the solution is for jparks and I to join a nudist colony. We could spend our days playing volleyball and when I run the marathon I won't have to worry about bloody nipples. Of course, we would never see our friends again, but such is the price of being laundry free.