Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

20 October 2011

I'll quit procrastinating tomorrow...

*Author's note:  I hate doing laundry.  Hate it.  HATE IT.  I avoid it like the plague and put it off for as long as possible.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blogging:

I ran out of laundry soap at some point last week.  I made a mental note of it:  "You're out of laundry soap" and then proceeded to go on with my life.  

What with all the lasagna drama, laundry was not a priority (which is, technically, no different than any other time but at least it sounds as if I have a valid excuse, yes?) so I managed to avoid the whole issue entirely, remaining very focused on my pity party and making sure that Dan realized how inconvenienced I was and how very, VERY lucky he is that I didn't kill him in his sleep.  

Friday, Saturday and Sunday were spent with him walking on egg shells and kissing my ass.  Laundry did not come up.

Come Monday, the pile of dirty clothes was growing but was still contained in the hamper.  Dan had socks and underwear, I had plenty of panties and sweat pants... there appeared to be no pressing need to remember that I was out of detergent.

Tuesday showed up and with it came the slight over-flow of the hamper.  I noticed it long enough to contemplate where the hell it all suddenly came from. I seriously am perplexed by how that happens:  Dan wears a uniform to work every day, and the company he works for also provides laundry service so I never even have to TOUCH his uniforms (thank God).  I pretty much never go anywhere except downstairs to get the mail and outside to walk the dogs and I manage to wear the same pair of yoga pants for days (DON'T JUDGE ME) before they require cleaning (hey... it's not like I get dirty, okay?  I shower daily and rarely step foot on any surface not covered with wall to wall carpet or sit on anything other than my couch) so who, exactly, is dirtying all these clothes?  There are two people living here, neither one of whom has any need for excessive wardrobe changes... WHERE THE HELL DOES THE LAUNDRY COME FROM?

I don't get it.

But there it is... multiplying and procreating as we speak.

By Wednesday, the heaping hamper was making a nuisance of itself.  Dan made a few snarky remarks along the lines of, "When's the last time you did laundry?" or, my favorite, the one that will get him killed one day:  "What the hell do you do all day?  It's not like you work..."  (Okay, granted:  He has a valid point but I'll be goddamned if I admit it.  I'M BUSY, OKAY?)

Me:  *defending my honor and my slothfullness*  "We're out of detergent."

Dan:  *giving me his patented "WTF?" look*  "Soooooo... why didn't you go buy more?"

Me:  *attempting to come up with a reason to be pissed off and wounded by his outrageous suggestion but failing miserably*



Well, shit.

Meanwhile, I was rapidly running out of clothes, towels, and the throws I keep on the couch so that my entire house doesn't reek of dog.  (For two little dogs who spend practically no time outside, do absolutely nothing to get dirty and get groomed on a regular basis, they sure manage to work up some stink.)  The state of the laundry was reaching crisis proportions.  Then Dan announced, as he was getting ready for work:  "I'm out of socks.  Are there any in the dryer?"

Of COURSE there weren't any in the dryer.  Because I ran out of laundry detergent.  Remember?  I just told you that!!!  

(I rock at uncalled-for self-righteous indignation.)

It was time to suck it up and take care of business.

Long story short, today I have been doing laundry.  All.  Day.

How is it that one week of not doing laundry equals seven loads of clothes I don't remember wearing, towels I don't remember using, and 200 mismatched socks at the bottom of the hamper that I know for a fact have not been on my feet in the past seven days?  It's got to be a conspiracy, right?

Probably those fucking geese.


  1. I swear, we must have been spawned from the same snarky jelly bean because we seem to share an unabiding hatred of many things.

    I detest laundry with every fiber of my being. Even more so for the past few years that I haven't had a washer/dryer in my apartment and laundry requires schlepping 3-4 loads of clothes up and down 3 flights of stairs, or across town to a laundromat. It's gotten to the point that I will make an extravagant dinner without hesitation in return for Ken doing the laundry. He even folds it. Inside out most of the time, but it's clean, dry, wrinkle free, and NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY! Muahahaha!

  2. Fucking geese. Geese are assholes.

  3. Oh my gaw, the dogs. THE DOGS! I have a chihuahua and mini-pin. Same freaking thing. How do they get to be such stinky little critters? They are tiny, tiny creatures, and yet they emit the stink of a mastiff. Weird, right?

    Laundry - don't even get me started. Twice this week, TWICE I've done laundry and had the machines screw me over. The first time the washer didn't drain the water or soap - and they are the forward facing stackable ones so when I opened the door the water whooshed out and pretty much flooded the room. Awesome to walk back to my apartment with squishy shoes. The second time the dryer the my quarters.

    Damn it.

  4. Maybe it's short haired little dogs? I'm going to say that 99% of the stink comes from my pug. Javi, the Pom, has the world's most atrocious dog breath but he doesn't smell doggy. Maisy, on the other hand, emits enough stench for a kennel full of basset hounds. WTF?

    Laundry is the biggest pain in my ass... I'm pretty sure I must have been viciously cruel to a washer woman in a past life.

  5. I'm beginning to become rather frightened of geese and the horrible insidious way they are messing with your life.

  6. It's wedding week at my house. This place is busting at the seams as every relative we have seems to be under the impression that my 3 bedroom house is really a 10 bedroom house and I am out of space to even put a frikkin air mattress at this point...I started a load of laundry 3 days ago. It's still sitting in the washer....I re-ran the load yesterday and promptly forgot about it again when I had to start cooking for the masses who are also under the impression that there are no RESTAURANTS in this town.....I'm on day 2 of my last pair of jeans. They deserve whatever funk that wafts off me, I'm kinda hoping their nostrils burn a little....and then I'll blame it on my dogs...

  7. Laundry never ends in our house, it is coming out from everywhere because all of out hampers are full. It would take 5 straight days of washing and drying to get all of our clothes clean.


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