We've all done this
So, Sunday was my day off. I woke up at a non-unreasonable hour (with the help of my furry alarm clock, Cooper), made myself breakfast and a nice pot of coffee. I made a checklist of things that had to get done during this week, prioritizing what would need to be done first and I got down to business.
And then I realized that if any of my business was going to take place outside of my house at any point this week, I would have to do laundry because like the lazy slob that I am, I had two full laundry hampers and no clean knickers.
Yup, I'm a classy girl.
So, I relocated my ticking-things-off-master-list efforts to the laundromat. Everyone else in the known universe was there as well because it was Sunday afternoon. Sunday, that day of fun and rest that comes between Saturday (another potential day of fun) and the rest of the (potentially crappy) week. So, there was a bit of a queue for the machines. But, I had reading to do, so I was pretty set. Every once and awhile I look at my laundry baskets and I think to myself, "never again. I'm going to wash things on a weekly schedule so that I never run out of things." I get pretty good at it and then you have to put it off a day because something comes up and the next thing you know its a month later, or on your last pair of underpants and you're waiting for a machine to open up on a Sunday afternoon. I've made no vows to myself about a schedule this time. We'll just see how it goes.