In our house, Isaac does almost all of the laundry. This is, primarily, because I am really good about putting laundry in the washer, but terrible about remembering to put it in the dryer and even worse about putting it away. This drives my dear husband up a wall. So, he just takes care of it. I try to help out and do what I can, but laundry is my nemisis and I just can't bring myself to do more than the bare minimum. Clean underwear? Good to go...everything else is just a nice added bonus.
But. Isaac is gone. For a while this time; 9 months at least. And, I can't just not wash my clothes for 9 months. So, when he left, I had a little self-motivating talk. "Erin," I said to myself. "You are a grown woman. You have been doing (and hating) your own laundry since you were ten. This means you have 20+ years of experience cleaning your own damn {sometimes I swear at myself. It's more motivational than one might think} clothes. Get your crap together and do the damn laundry. And, for the love of all that is holy and good PUT IT AWAY." And, I've tried. I really, really have. But. I just can't seem to stay on top of it. The clothes are everywhere. My bed, the chair, the floor. Everywhere. And everytime I look at those stupid piles of clothes I wish Isaac was home to just take care of it like he always does. But. He's not. And he won't be. And then, I hate the stupid laundry even more than usual; for existing and for constantly taunting me, for reminding me that he's not home and that he won't be home anytime soon. And I know I just have to get over it and do it. But. Sometimes it just really, really sucks.
