Let’s talk about doing laundry.
It’s probably the bane of my existence. It’s a never ending chore that, upon completion, does nothing to make me feel like I’ve accomplished anything important in my day-to-day.
It feels silly to say that for a lot of reasons, one of the primary reasons being that I could do dishes all day and feel like I’ve really made something of myself and my home in doing them. Dishes are cathartic. I get to be out of my room, watching whatever show I’m currently binging, cook, and make my kitchen look/smell/feel better. This can all happen simultaneously, too! It’s a rush, honestly.
I can clean my bathroom, make my bed, or do a host of other activities with the same never-ending qualities to them, but never do I feel as awful about those as I do about laundry. I can also fold laundry when it’s not my own. Does my mom need help folding laundry when I’m visiting? I’m on it. Is a friend packing for a trip and in need of someone to help sift through and clean up their clothes in the search for the right outfits for their trip? I’m their girl to help. But I can’t get myself to fold my own laundry on a regular basis, no matter how hard I’ve tried.
I can and DO wash my laundry frequently, though. That is easy and doable. But my ability to then fold said laundry is usually useless and results in the newly cleaned clothes ending up in a crumpled pile in my closet bin that I rifle through every morning looking for the shirt “I swear I saw at the top of this thing yesterday”. You’d think that after enduring those frustrations enough I would have changed my ways by now. But no. Here we are, with laundry in the dryer and in a basket waiting to be folded. Always and forever waiting to be folded. It’s a never-ending struggle. You’ll probably find my laundry basket with clothes in need of folding abandoned as I do dishes for the upteenth time in a day. It’s not something I’m proud of.
I also feel silly because I know that I’m lucky to own enough clothes to have to wash them frequently. So I’m slowly recalibrating my mind to realize the lack of clothes on my floor/in the basket on my floor is a refreshing sight and I should strive to make it a more frequent reality. Slowly, and all while doing anything else I can to avoid doing laundry at this exact moment. It’s a work in progress.
Heart Matters 