The Laundry Continuum

I hate doing laundry. HATE it. Although, upon examination, I am not really sure what part of the process is the problem. Lugging the over-full baskets down two flights of stairs into the musty, messy, half-finished basement doesn’t seem to be it. I lug when required without much complaint. The next step: turn on washing machine, add detergent, add clothes. Not a problem. Once the washing finishes, transfer to dryer and turn on. Check. The end of the drying seems to be where I hit the wall. Many a load of laundry has lain in wait for me all sparkly clean in the dryer. It lays there, helpless, beckoning for rescue, folding, and delivery to the appropriate dresser. There you have it. It’s the folding and distribution that sucks ass in the world of Rachel. On my message boards, my username tagline reads “Great Shirker of Laundry”. Nothing is as true. Pop Quiz, kids: Did anyone notice what step I skip in the processing of laundry? Anyone? Bueller? You, there in the back, in the paisley floral polyester top. Did you say “Sorting?”. Yes. That’s it. There is most definitely NO sorting in my world. I am very clearly the established Queen of the Kamikazi load. I take on a “survival of the fittest” attitude with laundry. It all goes in together and the strongest shall emerge victorious. In truth, I rarely ruin anything. Maybe once every year or so. With that track record, I’ll happily play the odds. If there is a delicate item in there the load that requires the gentle cycle or cold water, everything accompanying it gets the same treatment. In the end, the clothes smell lovely and are clean, albeit wrinkled from their long stay in the dryer. Now, I know *someone* out there is going to tell me to be grateful that I live in the day and age of automated washing. That my poor, downtrodden foremothers had to take their three articles of clothing (that they made by hand, from the wool directly off the shorn sheep) to the river bank and beat it with rocks. Or slightly more advanced, scrub it in a tub on one of those terrible washboards that was hell on a manicure. I am sure had I lived in either of those times, I would have hated laundry even more than I do now…..if that’s really possible. What is, in my opinion, the single greatest problem with laundry? Being the task oriented person I am, I like to SEE my accomplishments. Be it a clean kitchen or sparkling bathroom or another COMPLETED project. With laundry, you can never, ever be truly caught up. Unless, of course, every member of the household is completely nude, and their beds stripped of dirty linens. And their bath towels in process as well. That brings to mind the episode of Sex and The City where Charlotte marries Harry and discovers that he spends an inordinate amount of “at home” time in the buff. To outwardly puritan Charlotte, seeing all of Hairy Harry outside the bedroom is a bit disconcerting. The proverbial shit doesn’t hit the fan however, until Harry perches the boys on Charlotte’s snow white furniture. I guess that would need to be laundered as well……. There really is no end, is there?