I know for a fact that I am not the only one who has been victimized by the monster who lives in the laundry room.
The one that hides behind the washer, or inside the dryer and steals your left sock or your favourite pillow case.
The same one that is impossible to see with your own eyes, but you know he exists due to the newest random hole in your comfiest old t-shirt. And the fact that you have literally searched every nook in cranny in your teeny-tiny shoebox sized apartment and there are some items that are still forever missing.
The laundry monster is a creature that I have chosen to accept as an adult. The same way that my childhood used to be blessed with the tooth-fairy and missing teeth that were always replaced with change.
However, now I am stuck with mixed match socks and one more load of frustration.
My weekends don’t tend to be very relaxing any more. Mostly they consist of errands that I never have time for during the week. For example, who the heck wants to grocery shop at 8 p.m. when you’ve been out of the house for 12 hours and you haven’t had a thing to eat since noon?
And don’t even get me started on trying to do laundry during the week because I’m never home in time before the door locks tightly and I’m left with a forever growing mountain of dirty socks.
So Saturday and Sunday, specifically Sunday on the day of supposed rest, I am left with the short to do list of working a full shift, doing a load of laundry, making lunch, doing a load of laundry, making dinner, washing dishes, and did I mention… DOING A DAMN LOAD OF LAUNDRY.
Luckily for me though, on some weekends my empty apartment becomes a little more crowded and my laundry responsibilities are… aggressively forced… onto my other half.
So much to my excitement when I came home from work this morning, freezing cold and so exhausted I could barely lift my feet high enough to walk, to a very noisy dryer and a very naked bed.
That’s right folks, 1 load of laundry clean and almost dry and I didn’t even have to lift a finger. (All I had to do was send one very nice text message paired perfectly with kissey emojis and one or two hearts).
And then, my sweet oblivion came to a screechy halt and what should have been a thoughtful easy gesture turned into grumpy faces and a hurricane of clean sheets.
You guessed it… The laundry monster strikes again…
(And this time with a less forgiving subject).
So now I sit here, with only my right foot protected from the apartment air and my favourite pillow bare and ugly just imagining that somewhere, my two pieces of material are together.
And one very angry boyfriend, who I truly believe is setting traps in the laundry room as I type this to try and catch the culprit.
But, with a fresh bed and an empty laundry hamper, this girl is ready to tackle a new week – even if it means doing it with one less sock then the week before.
“If I don’t do laundry today, I’m going to have to buy new clothes tomorrow” – Anna Paquin