Laundry never ends, does it? It is the never-ending story.  I live alone, but even so, work clothes, nighties and linens….it all adds up.

There is very little ironing here; I don’t buy things I know will need ironed. If I pick up something on sale that turns out to need ironing regularly, I give it to one of my sisters.  I wash, dry (only lingerie avoids the dryer) and put it away – rarely on the same day.

I wonder if I would be more on top of the laundry if the washer and dryer were not in the creepy, cob-webbed basement. (Probably not.)

I fantasize about meeting my soulmate, and finding out he is obsessed with doing laundry…a laundry junkie. (If you know a laundry junkie, that is my age or older, send him my way, will you?)

Whenever I have these random thoughts about doing the laundry, I remind myself that I should be grateful that I do not have to go to the laundromat.  Or wash my socks and undies in the sink. Or  wash my clothes against some rocks in a nearby river.

And I remind myself to be thankful that I have plenty of clothing to wear….even if I don’t do the laundry today.

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