Laundry Day

I enjoy doing laundry. I couldn’t tell you exactly why, but for some reason the chore isn’t something I dread. Maybe it’s that at the end of the process your dresser is full and the basket is empty, or maybe the monotonous act of folding clears my head. Either way, I like doing laundry.

However, now that my husband and I live on the 11^th floor laundry is a full on production. I imagine my neighbors got a kick out of me trying to make it down the hall to the elevator with two overflowing baskets this morning. It was a hot mess. I dropped the detergent and busted the cap, not awesome.

Laundry is almost a workout in and of itself lately. Carrying the heavy baskets, stuffing the machines, going up and down switching it from the washer to the dryer, I am sweating my butt off! It doesn’t help that the air-conditioning is only on the ground floor and in individual apartments, but still it has never been this exhausting.

My husband and I do laundry once a week. And when I say we do laundry, I mean that I do the laundry and if he is around he will carry a basket down for me. It’s crazy to see how much laundry the two of us can accumulate in a 7 day period. When I lived at home I helped out and did any laundry that was in the laundry room whenever I needed to wash my own stuff and it never seemed like as much as it does now. Maybe it’s because all the laundry was in one room and I didn’t have to go back and forth.

Anyways, despite the extra work, I still enjoy laundry day. I think deep down I have always been meant to be a home-maker. Having clean clothes for my husband, and fresh sheets on the bed is an excellent way to end the day.