It’s Sunday and the piles of laundry on my floor have led me to believe that my carpet has gone on vacation. It has up and left, taking refuge in either the Bahamas or perhaps a hardwood floor store. These piles start at the door to my bedroom and form mountains between the foot of my bed and bathroom door. There is even a small one forming in my “walk-in” closet, although it’s really more of a “step-in, turn around, step-out” closet.
I’m not sure when my hatred of laundry formed, but it probably just stems from my general laziness and apathy towards household chores. I do love vacuuming, though. I would vacuum the carpet everyday if there was any proof that I actually have a carpet.
But today I have decided to do my laundry. I am sick of having to leap over piles of clothes to get to the bathroom or the computer desk. These hills of whites and darks and colors have turned walking around my room into a sport. One hop to the left, leap to the right, forward jump over the pile of tie-dyed shirts, catapult myself using the footboard, and all the while attempting to not knock over any of the ambiguously arranged mounds.
So this morning I started. Actually, I started this afternoon around 2:00, but considering that I didn’t wake up until about noon, 2:00 still felt like morning. First I washed my sheets. Bella, the dog/in house toy destroyer, has become fond of cuddling up at the place on the bed where the pillows meet the sheets and a thin layer of black hair has collected in the spot where she lays. They are now in the dryer and I am anxiously awaiting that obnoxious buzzer so that I can make my bed and take my first load of darks out of the washer.
Let me just tell you, laundry day has always been a long process for me. When I lived in the dorms on campus, I didn’t do laundry until well into the first semester, maybe sometime around Halloween. The first thing that is frightening about this is the fact that I have enough clothes to last me that long without washing anything. The second thing that is frightening about this is that when the time came to wash my stuff, I can honestly say that I occupied nearly an entire row of washers and dryers in the building’s laundromat. Sorry about that, guys. It’s safe to estimate that I used an entire box of dryer sheets that day. And so the cycle began. (no pun intended?)
Freshman year I did laundry maybe four times. At Christmas I took some dirty clothes home for my mom to tackle. Spring break, too. Sophomore year was better because I moved into my house and had easy access to a private washer and dryer. Did I do more laundry? No. But it was less of a hassle when I actually got around to it. However, this also enabled my room to transform into a certifiable disaster area. In the dorm, I couldn’t spread my crap out all over the universe because I had to respect my roommate’s area. Here at the house, I can put my stuff wherever I feel like so that means my room turns into a dirty clothes graveyard until I muster up the motivation to do something about it.
It is going to be a lifelong saga of room cleaning and sheet washing. As soon as all of my clothes are washed and put away, it comes time to get dressed in the morning for classes. I stand in my closet, hands on my hips, surveying the hangers among hangers of perfectly acceptable garb, not wanting to wear any of it. Try on a shirt. Take it off. Throw it on the floor. I’m running late, after all. Pair of shorts after pair of shorts after pair of shorts. Finally find an outfit. Look disastisfyingly into the full length mirror, spritz of Marc Jacobs perfume, flip flops on, out the door. Meanwhile, Bella is still sleeping, but now she comfortably snoozes atop a pile of perfectly clean clothes in the place between my closet and my bed. Tomorrow, it will all start again.
My mom always argues that if you clean up as you go, it only takes about 5 minutes. I can see her logic, but it has never worked for me, mainly because I refuse to do it. So I will remain a laundry hater. It will always take me hours and hours to do a few months worth of dirty clothes. People will ooh and aah over the amount of clothes that I have and how messy my room can become in a matter of seconds and a flurry of outfit changes.
Gotta go –
buzzer is calling for me!
Below: my room! $10 to the first person who finds the carpet! haha. There is even laundry in my hammock swing!