But some things just get under my skin. When faced with one particular chore, I'll get antsy, my pulse quickens, and all the Buddha book reading in the world does not help.
It happened again this morning. It's funny how a few simple words can send a otherwise sensible human being like myself into a full blown panic. My wife was heading out the door for work as I sat on the couch, coffee in hand, flip flopping from ESPN to CNN. And then, it happened.
"Honey," she said. "Can you take the cloths out of the dryer and switch the cloths in the washer to the dryer?"
DAMN! There goes my morning.
I'd rather dig a new septic field.
I don't have this issue with my cloths. When I'm on the boat, the work cloths come out of the washer, get dumped into the dryer and the start button gets pushed.
Granted, my previously white fruit of the loom's are a bit faded, but who cares.
Temperature? Double rinse cycle? Delicates?
My daughter came home from college last night, which actually means, my daughter came home with a big bag of dirty laundry last night. She is at a job fare today, so I was elected to make the simple switch from the washer to the dryer. The problem is, it's not simple at all.
First I have to read all the labels. Why do they hide the labels? Is it some kind of sicko game clothing manufactures play? Can they make the labels any smaller?
Lay flat.
Line dry.
I have so many cloths laying and hanging around my house, it looks like a Occupy Wallstreet location.
When I see a label that says, "tumble dry low" I feel happy.
I can't even recognize half of the garments I am reading about.
I'm all stressed out today.
I have a load of "colors" to deal with in a few minutes.
7 comments:
Poor Mark, life can be so complicated.
Am I supposed to be feeling some sort of sympathetic feelings here?....
i love doing laundry. i really do. it's my favorite chore.
hate me ???
Sorry. Ain't getting a sympathetic word from me, Mark. You think your morning is ruined? Try MY LIFE!!!!!
Apparently, you do not take after Mother. Her day was not complete if she didn't "put in a load."
Molly
I feel bad for you!
Ha!!! Boy that is so true....and guess what. I have to do this every week. Not just once in a while. So put on your big boy pants and go for it.
The pain only lasts for about 20 minutes.
See? All better now?
Hugs
SueAnn
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