Everyone knows how to do laundry, right? Wrong. Furthermore, the way in which a person accomplishes this mundane, yet essential never-ending task can affect their life and well-being greatly! Keeping the laundry bin uncluttered and flowing towards the closet, is a fantastic first step towards a more organized and successful personal world.
But it is here that I must digress. Although today, I can do laundry like a boss, my life was not always like this. What I am about to reveal is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I promise.
My Dirty Laundry Confessions
Once upon a time in Collegeville, I regularly played a game called, “See how long I can go without having to sit in a laundromat doing my laundry”. Because my college was near my hometown, someone was always going in that direction, and my laundry bag would hitch a ride. My mother would wash my clothes, buy my clean laundry a bus ticket, then let me know what time my laundry’s bus would arrive in Collegeville.
Yes. This did happen.
The summer after my sophomore year, I decided to spend the summer working at the beach.
Dilemma: How would I do my laundry?
Being 15 hours away, the bus ticket system was impractical. One solution to my dilemma was to buy more underwear and t-shirts. But, it was obvious, even to my highly- motivated-washateria-avoiding self, I could not last three months without languishing at the local laundromat.
When, at last, I was forced to do my laundry, it was such a landmark day that I asked my roommate to capture the moment for posterity. And, in the day of 36 pictures to a roll of film, the following photo proves all-the-more what a watershed moment this was in my young life.
The size of detergent selected vs. the sheer volume to be washed communicates that this was a one-time, mid-summer, not-to-be-repeated event. In the picture, I’m laughing at myself because I can’t believe I am finally having to do this. (My roommates are not believing I never have.) It looks as if my clothes are gonna occupy ALL the laundromat’s washers, and, as I recall, they did.
If I told the truth about what happened next, you would not believe it could happen. Even, my today-self has trouble believing what transpired. For brevity’s sake, I will say the event did not end well and was disorganization to the max.
And, then came marriage. Apartment living in those primitive days did not include the washer/dryer combo. Most apartment dwellers had to carry their laundry two miles in the snow uphill while slaying dinosaurs. I’m that old.
Our first apartment, however, was “fancy” and had its own communal washer/dryer set-up, literally two doors away from us.
Idleness in a hot room listening to the swishing and tumbling of clothes was not my thing. I would run back and forth checking on the clothes. Sometimes when I would get side-tracked and not return on time, people would rudely toss my clothes aside or, worse yet, once stole an entire load of “whites”.
More reasons to despise doing laundry!
Soon our first house came. My parents gifted the washer/dryer set-up. Yay! My life was transformed… kinda. I was always good at the washing/drying part, but never so good at the putting away part.
Our guest bedroom was perpetually the clean laundry room. Piles and piles of clean laundry. But, hey, points for the clean part, right? And, points for separating the clothes into logical piles: unmatched socks, my clothes, his clothes, etc.
Enter a new puppy who sneaked into the clean clothes room and had a very fun day systematically biting my husband’s Egyptian cotton dress shirts’ pearl buttons in half from the small button-down collar buttons to the tip of his shirt-tail, including the extra button sewn inside and the cuffs.
All of his dress shirts. All of the buttons.
But, this button-eating event, accompanied with the husband’s displeasure, did not cure me, I simply made sure that going forward, the door was always closed.
Next came three boys and grade school and the daily struggle to get to school on time.
The “clean clothes room” system began to break down. I got tired of pawing through piles vs. the clock ticking toward tardiness. My otherwise organized and neat self did not like my unaccomplished laundry self.
I disliked the daily, panicky feeling of searching for sock matches.
Finally, I knew I needed to make some drastic changes in my laundry-keeping world. I am so glad I did. The changes I made keep me organized to this very day.
Come back next time to learn how you, too, can do laundry like a boss.
Through reading my journey, and knowing a transformational story will be coming, it is my hope that you will be both encouraged and inspired to see how taking charge of this seemingly innocuous life skill can bring much peace and harmony into your daily life.
Click on the blog headline, leave a comment, and subscribe to future posts. I have a lot to say, and you won’t want to miss it!