Saturday, November 09, 2002

(A word about laundry)


When a spider crawls out of the laundry in the basket that you are sorting, it's not up to you anymore. It's up to the laundry. All nine loads of it.

I love clean clothes. I hate to do laundry. And, I hate to shop for new clothes. Therein lies the frustration.

Around here, when the laundry calls, the laundry actually calls. I'm lucky that it doesn't move but just screams at me from the other room to get it done, or else.

And don't even get me started on what the vaccuum cleaner called me the other day...




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