Tuesday, April 10, 2012

laundry rant

Let me start by stating that I have no qualms about the distribution of chores in our household. I tend to do more of the day to day stuff, and Bunny tends to do more of the once-a-week (or less) "Big Chores". Right now, since I'm home much more than he is, I've also been picking up a few of those. This works for us. I don't mind cooking and washing up, but the idea of taking out the trash? I just don't want to deal. Please no.

There are plenty of chores that are unpleasant. I'm not particularly fond of cleaning the bathroom, though I do it far more often than I ever would have expected. I don't really like picking up around the house, but I do it every other day or so. I don't enjoy cleaning floors, but I clean them.

But laundry? Oh god, laundry. My reaction to this chore is absolutely irrational. I turn into a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. I scream at the hamper, I stew while I walk around the back of the building to the laundry room. I scare the dog. I bitch at Bunny to no end. I just cannot handle laundry.

Actually, it's not so much doing the laundry that creates the problem. I mean, chucking clothes in a washer, transferring them to a dryer, and then putting them away is not that big of a deal. Where it gets me though, is not having a washer and dryer. Leaving the house to do the laundry is a whole different beast than just flinging a load of underthings in the washer.

It's not so much doing the laundry that is the problem, as the leaving my home to do the laundry. Every little obstacle in my way puts red flags in my vision. Someone dumped things in the wrong part of the hamper? I'm mad. There's only one washing machine available? I'm mad. I dropped things on the way? I'm mad. The machine ate my quarter? I'm mad. It doesn't matter what happens when I do the laundry, it will make me mad because I just hate the laundry that much. Complete irrational hatred.

It fills me with rage. White hot rage. Two year old temper tantrum rage. Inexplicable, unexcusable, irrational rage. I f*cking hate the g*ddamn laundry. I hate it I hate it I hate it.

I have to be honest, I don't care about clean clothes. Not as much as I should. Not enough to be worth getting this worked up about laundry. I would really rather wear dirty clothes for the rest of my life than do the f*cking laundry ever again. For real. I haaaaaaate laundry.

What's even more ridiculous about my hatred of laundry is that it's a chore that Bunny does more than 75% of the time. He knows I hate it, and it's not very often he asks me to do it. If I'm doing the laundry it's because it needs to be done and there was no chance for him to do it.

But me doing the laundry? Well I can do it, and I will do it, but it is torture. I equate washing my clothes with torture. That's how strong my reaction against laundry is. I rage against it the entire time I'm doing it.

Which is all to say that the laundry is currently in the dryer, and I have to go pick it up in half an hour.

So, here's my question for you: what chores do you hate? Why do you hate them so much? And what do you do to make them a little bit more bearable?

1 comment:

  1. Hi Sheryl! Sorry for having to leave this via comment, but I've been trying to track you down via e-mail to let you know that you won a Oliver's Labels Room-eez prize on my blog! Please send me a quick note (lena at listentolena dot com) and I'll get that prize to you! Thanks!

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