Frickin' laundry

I don't have a laundry day because everyday is laundry day.  I don't sort by people and unless it's going to bleed, I don't separate by color either.  I do wash linens separately but that's only because I wash those in super hot water and if I washed my clothes in super hot water nothing would fit.  Alltosay, I try and make it as simple as possible for myself.  But somehow, somehow, it's just not simple.  It piles up, it stares at me, it taunts me, it becomes a bigger task than it really is, and I spend more energy avoiding it than I would if I just took care of it.

Today was going to be the day.  I had a basket full plus 3 loads on top of that in my bedroom that needed to be folded and put away.  TODAY. 

9:45am

9:45pm

I just didn't get to it today!  The thing about this is that I promised Chris I would.  Chris, who thinks that this should never ever ever happen, expects that this is going to be put away before he comes to bed.  Now, before you think he's an arrogant dictator, he's really not.  He just expects me to run the house and the kids like he runs his business and fire - efficiently.  I snap back with, "Don't you hold me to those high standards, Mister.  I've got shit to do - like blogging and catching up on Real Housewives."  Anyway, back to him expecting them to be put away by the time he comes to bed tonight, this is what I did:  I went through and picked out some of his fire shirts, his underwear, and some socks.  I put those away so it looked as if all the laundry was put away because those will be the only drawers he needs for himself in the morning before he heads to work.  The rest of the ginormous pile?  In a corner in the dining room with a blanket over it.  No, I'm not kidding.  Do you know how much energy I expended in avoiding putting the laundry away in the last 30 minutes?  Enough to burn off a couple pieces of that Christmas fudge, I do believe. 

Awesome.