My Zen


This may come as a surprise, but I love dirty laundry.  The bigger the pile, the greater my level of Zen becomes.  I know part of the reason is easy.  I am organized.  Stop laughing and rolling your eyes.  I am REALLY organized.  A nice large pile of something dirty gives me a “challenge”.  It stares me down, taunting me to tackle it.  I actually love to wait until Fridays to do the laundry too.  Why?  Fridays, with five people in the family and two of them who change twice a day at a minimum, the pile gets HUGE.  Right now there is one slight problem though.

The winter takes a bit of the wind out of my sails.  Part of the Zen of doing laundry comes from hanging it, checking it, taking it down at precisely the right moment before it gets too stiff to fold.  Smelling each piece to see if the smell of the outdoors has absorbed itself into the weave.  Then the fold.  Creating perfect piles of whiter than whites, socks that actually did come clean and shirts that still look new, months after purchasing them.

Some people count down to Spring for planting flowers, hiking or just getting outside.  Me? I count it down for hanging my laundry……

Until then, I do everything inside.  I sort, wash (all cold washes btw) and creatively use the dryer to only dry so much.  Then I hang clothing up on hangers or couches until they are just right.  The put away is just as fun.  That’s because I don’t do it for anyone but myself.  My children, even the seven year old put their own clothes away, even hang what needs to be hung.

If you have read “The Clean Out”, then I bet you are going to ask about my husband and where his clothes go.  You notice his name was not listed on the above “put away” list.  He tries.  Well, not really.  The kids take his clothes up and they know where to put them.  He has a desk right next to his dresser.  You never see the actual desk through the piles of clean clothes that sit there.  He works off the top, center or bottom, depending on what he needs for the day.    The rest just sit there in pretty piles that “eat” at me on a daily basis.

I think he does this secretly to get a laugh at my expense.  Men.

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About wigsbabe

Never be the Mediator... be the writer.
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One Response to My Zen

  1. See … you’re weird and warped in your own special way. AND, any day you need a little zen, I’d be happy to provide!

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