This past week, I was beginning to feel a little smothered. It was becoming apparent that there was no real differentiation between our clean and dirty clothes in the bedroom. I had gotten into a minor bad habit of piling clean clothes on the hope chest instead of immediately folding and putting away. Well, the hope chest is in front of the air conditioner, so needless to say, the clothes wound up on the floor, mixing in oh so well with a few dirty items that didn't find their way to the hamper in the corner.
I dedicated my day to laundry, and successfully washed, dried, folded AND put away 4 loads, including our bedding. I feel like a rock star. Is that sad?
Of course, with a marathon laundry day also came dusting, because I opened the curtains and let in some natural light and saw just how nasty the various surfaces in the house had become.
This all comes on the eve of resigning our lease, because I really don't want the landlord to walk in and think we've turned his house into a pit. We're not terribly sloppy people, but we definitely have our days. I think he'll be pleased with what he sees, if he really cares. Well, I care. That's all that really matters.
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