--- It's laundry day at the Cake Eater Apartment. Woohoo, is what
you're saying. I know it is. Laundry is boring stuff. I apologize, but
honesty, other than running up and down three flights of stairs
repeatedly, I like doing laundry. Why, you ask, do I like this tedious
activity?
Well, mainly because I like the smell of the stuff I use to clean our
clothes. It's going to sound wierd, but the smell of these products
makes me happy. It's stupid, I know. But I really do get a kick out of
smelling laundry soap---the actual soap and
what it effect it has on the clothes when they come out of the dryer. I
also like fabric softener, too. I should declare right here and right
now that I'm a Downy Girl. I do like how Bounce smells, but I don't
like that prolonged usage of fabric sheets causes socks to
disentegrate. I personally think Fresh Start was the best smelling
laundry detergent EVER, but they no longer make it. Gain isn't bad, but
they don't sell it in bulk at Costco. I still remember what Dash
smelled like back before they made it into a lemon scented business and
then discontinued it entirely. My mom used Dash for years; now she's
relegated to using Tide, like the rest of us. Bounce has always smelled
the same---they just turned the smell up to eleven in recent years. But
there's another reason I like doing laundry.
There's just something about cleaning clothes that makes me feel like
I'm accomplishing something. At the beginning, you have piles of dirty
clothes. At the end, the hampers are empty, everything is folded, put
away and it smells good. I accomplish something with this task. And in
my life, where a goodly amount of effort is extended for minimal
accomplishment, it feels good that I have at least one task where I
know I'm the gold standard and there is a result. Writing, right now,
for me, is not about results. Those will come---one day. I know this.
But laundry, well, that takes a day, life is sorted, and there is a
measurable result at the end of it. It's so weird, I know, but I take
pleasure in this. It's not like cleaning for me. I hate cleaning. I
used to clean other people's domiciles, hotel rooms and condos for a
living. Ever since I gave up cleaning other people's toilets and
dealing with the hairballs they left in the bottom of the drain,
cleaning holds very little satisfaction for me. (You clean up a hotel
room after people have used it as a sex shack or a kegger house and
you'll know what I'm talking about.) For me, cleaning has morphed into
an activity you do for other people. I could live in a sty and I'd be
ok with it for a good long while. I don't need to clean for me; I do
need to clean when someone is coming over, though. I used to find some
satisfaction in cleaning, but no more. Now I want someone to clean up
after me. But laundry is an entirely different story. I could never
have someone other than myself or the husband wash my skivvies. Just
couldn't do it, mainly because I don't want someone commenting on said
skivvies, but because it's my task. And because I like sniffing laundry
soap. Someone book me an appointment at the pyschiatrist toute suite.