Sometimes the laundry is just the laundry...

About three weeks ago I washed a couple loads of laundry, and promptly forgot about them.  Okay, I didn't "forget" about them (since I saw them every time I went down to do a load of laundry) but for some reason I didn't want to fold this particular pile clothes and put them away.  That pile sat in the basement for about a week waiting before I got the bright idea to bring the basket upstairs and put it on the couch.  I mean if it's on the couch then I couldn't forget about it, right?  Right!  However, I found that I could ignore it.  Not only ignore it -- I could come to resent it, loathe it, and make it the poster child for everything wrong with my life!

There are three other people (men!) in this house, and they bore brunt of my fierce, albeit silent, resentment.  How can they miss the big blue clothes basket filled with their clothes!  Their clothes!  They weren't even mine!  Why do I have to take care of them?  Sure -- move the basket to the floor so you can sit on the couch, and then leave it there so I have to walk over and put the basket right back up on the couch for you to ignore all over again!  Typical!  Where's your shirt?!  Yes, please pick out the shirt you're looking for (and only the shirt you're looking for) out of the basket, and leave everything else.

Okay, that's it!  I'm tired of being taken for granted!  I'm tired of being pushed around!  I'm not touching that pile!  It can stay there forever for all I care!

In my case "forever" turned out to be about three weeks.  I guess I showed them!  They're gonna think twice before trying to take me for granted!  Now if only they'd take care of the other side of the room...