Confession: I live out of my dryer. I never want to deal with folding/putting away freshly-tumbled clothes, so I just pick things out of there as I need them.
Then it’s time to do laundry again, and I put it off because I don’t want to deal with the dryer full of clean – but wrinkly – clothing. Sometimes I flip on the de-wrinkle cycle with the intent of coming back in half an hour and finishing the job. Then I conveniently forget about it until the next morning, when I have to go dig for a pair of socks.
Last night, things finally hit rock bottom.
How two people manage to generate this much laundry is beyond me. But the real nail in the coffin was that I was completely out of sports bras. Time to face the dryer and get it done.
But then I discovered this:
Aw hell. What’s one more day, right?