It's been eight months since I started this blog. I think I'm doing a pretty good job of keeping up with it, but it's been at the expense of housework. I can't very well sacrifice my well paying job for this vanity project, so that commands my attention a good nine or more hours each weekday. Cooking for the family? Can't blow that off-do you know how much it costs for a family of six to eat out? Even at a drive thru we're talking $40, and that's one third of my weekly grocery budget. That's not within the realm of possibility, especially when you've got two protein eaters to deal with. (Steve, down 25, Amy down 20)
So what's the least critical task that I face each night, the one that I can put off with the least amount of guilt? Laundry. In all honesty, blaming the blog for my laundry procrastination is a joke. I simply despise doing laundry, hate it with a passion. In a perfect world, I would pay someone to take on that task, but if laundresses make as much as housekeepers, there's no way. Do you know how much housekeepers make in the Twin Cities? Twenty-five dollars per hour. I know plenty of college graduates who don't make anything close to that.
The last two nights have been dedicated to tending the hampers that were piled high with clothes needing hung, socks needing matched and towels folded. I am fortunate enough to have two washers and dryers at home, which saves time during the actual washing and drying process, but exponentially increases the number baskets needing attention. If the contents of each basket aren't put away quickly, they become veritable magnets for the dog hair tumbleweeds that float around the house.
I decided to kill two birds with one stone-tackled the mountains of laundry and caught up on some Netflix offerings that have been sitting on my DVD player for...oh...about two months-the exact amount of time I've blown off the chore in question. I watched Stranger Than Fiction and loved it so much that I instantly rewatched scenes 12-14 over again. Awesome movie, perfect soundtrack and Emma Thompson is delightful, too. After the letdown that was Talladega Nights, it was nice to fall in love with Will Ferrell all over again. (It's widely known in my house that if "something" happened to Steve, and "something else" happened to Will Ferrell's wife, I would actively pursue a romantic relationship with my favorite Elf.)
(not even half of it, hell not even a fourth of it)
Now for my lofty November goal, I'm going to participate in this effort. The kids are being trained in the nuances of sorting and fabric softener in anticipation.