5/365 Days: Laundry, You Will Be the Death of Me

It may come as a shock to most of you out there, but I do not have a washer in my apartment; and yes, I live in an apartment. I do not own my own home, I do not live in a condominium, townhouse, or any of the other cutesy names people give to apartments to make them seem not so apartment-like. It’s just a quaint, two-bedroom place that suits me and my partner pretty well for the time being. We used to have access to a washer, which was located in the basement and no, it wasn’t too scary of a place to venture into. However, it broke more than a year ago and the landlord has adapted this ‘Oh, you need access to a washer? People still use those things?’ type of mentality. Now, factor this into the fact that my partner is a full-time musician who is always gone and I’m a full-time blogger, freelance writer and complete and utter social media addict and you’ll get a good grasp on how often laundry gets done around here. If your head is still in the clouds, I’ll spell it out for you: not very often at all.

I had no intention of actually going through the two laundry baskets that were sitting in the bedroom waiting to be put away today. No intention at all. We recently tried to clean our bedroom once and for all, since it has become more of a dumping ground than anything else that we trudge through every night to get to our bed. This did not work, since the partner’s version of cleaning is more like taking every article of dirty clothing in the house and shoving it in both of our closets and to put away those aforementioned two laundry baskets of clothes, I would need to go through the closets resulting in even more a mess and even more dirty laundry to tend to. However, I got a very late start this morning. The alarm clock went off and I immediately assumed the position of ‘I am not getting out of this bed regardless of how much stuff I need to get done today or how much you pay me.’ So after waking up, getting the coffee, putting a blog post up and chatting with folks on Twitter and Facebook, I ventured up to the bathroom to shower and then I couldn’t find any clothes. No clean clothes anywhere. Except for the clothes that were sitting in the laundry baskets, and so, I was forced to take them all out, fold them all into piles on the bed, and lastly, start cleaning out the closets. Notice I said start cleaning out the closets. I cannot predict when the bedroom will be a room we can walk through effortlessly without tripping over a pile of clothes and falling into another pile.

As you can tell by the look on my face, it was not a happy Friday thus far, but I am so, so relieved that some of the insane work it is going to take to get that bedroom whipped into shape is done and because there are still clothes on the bed waiting to be put away, I’m suspecting more of that work will be completed later today.