We escaped the bears and the rattle snakes and made it home safely. The problem now is the laundry. I’ve never been able to finish laundry on a normal week. Now I have a pile almost as tall as me that I have been staring at wondering why we do this to ourselves. I’m starting to understand the longing for the Garden of Eden: no clothes = no laundry. Forget the pain of childbirth. There are drugs for that. I'm dealing with laundry here. If only there would of been a sign posted like the one I've posted here, it quite possibly could have saved us all. No Jesus-like intervention would be needed because there would be no laundry, among other things.
I don’t mind the washing part. I even enjoy taking the warm fresh-scented clothes out of the dryer. It’s the actually getting it back into drawers that is one of the most tedious tasks I have ever encountered. Every time I dig through the pile to find a pair of socks for my daughter – they don’t have to match, mind you – but I think “It would be so much easier if we would just knock this pile out and have things in the drawers where they belong.” I then find the socks mid-thought and jubilantly walk away as if I have just found the most prized treasure. Off to soccer camp my child can now go while I stay home and walk by the 5 ft tall pile of laundry one-hundred times thinking, “I should get on that,” but don’t. Maybe tomorrow, or mañana as someone who speaks Spanish might say.
Now it is mañana and I am still not folding laundry, much less putting it anywhere. I’d honestly like to burn it all, but I’m writing instead and mainly because I’ve been told that I need to write EVERY. DAY. I have a sweet mentor that tells me that I will never finish a book unless I do. What she doesn’t understand is that telling me to write everyday is like telling me to put up the laundry once it’s clean and dry. Yeah right. I suck at anything that requires discipline and routine. Some of it is the ADD. Some of it is me avoiding that which is slightly uncomfortable. Most of it is because I am human. And maybe my mentor does actually understand, but knows that if she doesn't tell me to write everyday that I won't write even as much, or as little, as I do.
I haven’t written for several days. But I am writing now and that is what counts. I may not finish the laundry pile for several more days, but when (and if) I do, it will count too. And, I love the phrase “close counts,” because it does. At least the laundry is clean, for now. Close enough for me. Until mañana.