In our household laundry is my responsibility. And today is laundry day.
Before my fellow feminists shake their heads, let me explain that it is by my choice. I actually rather like doing laundry. There is something very satisfying about starting with an enormous pile of work and then steadily reducing it until everything is clean and fresh. Many tasks in this world do not have that same feeling of completeness and accomplishment. There is no ambiguity about whether you have finished or not. The evidence is right there in the empty laundry baskets. I know it's weird. But I prefer to focus on enjoying the small, simple things.
And besides, if I left the laundry up to GLH my clothing would be destroyed after only a couple of washes. I've tried to explain the process of sorting and the importance of selecting the correct cycle and temperature, but he just doesn't care enough about it to learn it.
So the laundry is my responsibility.
We have only once fought over laundry. It was the last time we were in Zurich. On the Saturday before we left, we made a final run to the apartment with some kitchen items we had purchased as well as our extra suitcases full of clothes we wouldn't need before January and had brought to leave.
As we were unpacking them, I discovered that GLH had included all of our dirty laundry from the trip. "No point in taking it back with us," he cheerfully says.
This was a problem for two reasons:
1. I do not have as many clothes as GLH. I prefer to be a minimalist and include in my closet only those items that are actively used. Once it is outdated or worn, I either give it to charity or throw it away. And I only have a normal 2 week supply of underwear. Unlike GLH who seems to be preparing for a war that destroys all clothing stores.
2. I do not want to show up exhausted and jet-lagged in my new home only to be faced with a week's worth of laundry that must be done.
Unfortunately I lost this battle. And the day after we returned from Zurich I was at the store, grumbling while I purchased new underwear, socks and a few shirts.
I really hate shopping.
The only bright spot is that I happened across a beautiful wool coat in the perfect color of blue for only $35. It was the last one on the clearance rack at Macy's and it fit me perfectly.
So I guess it was worth it, but I am still grumbling...