A big pile of denial.

This was my pile of clean laundry yesterday. I hate doing laundry. I hate washing it, folding it, and putting it away. I hate ironing it and I even hate deciding what to wear. But since we can't walk around naked all the time (major bummer), I pile it up and pick through it to get out what I want to wear. And I don't even iron it. I just wear it like that.

It feels good to get that off my chest.

This pile did not include a load in the washer, another in the dryer and an almost full hamper. So even though I did manage to fold most of this yesterday, you'd never know it since all that other laundry was still waiting for me and my pile today is just as big.

It worked out great when we had four bedrooms, because I could pile up one guest bed with laundry and ignore it. I have no extra room now. There is nowhere to run. If it's on my bed I have to fold it so I can sleep (or push it onto the floor where the dog will sleep in it and I'll have to wash it all again).

I know if I did one load a day I could keep up with it and this wouldn't happen, but when I hate doing something I don't want to do it everyday. In fact, I don't want to ever do it. Which of course is exactly how this pile happened in the first place.