This weekend I basically did laundry and watched a lot of TV. Today, for example, I decided not to leave the house (haven’t even been out to the car yet!) so I did “special laundry” in the bathtub.

Special laundry is laundry that is still all stainy and gross even after it’s been through the washing machine. Today it was three of Thom’s work shirts, all coffee-spattered and grimy. It took about an hour (or, conversely, one episode of House MD) to wash them, and now they’re white as the driven snow.

Something about doing the wash (although not the part that eats up your day) is intensely cathartic to me. I love the clean, perfectly crisp, new feeling of something that’s been thoroughly soaped and rinsed. And then the ironing! Ooo, don’t get me started.

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