I’ve totally come to terms with this little phenomenon know as laundry. It no longer drives me up a wall and back again when all the laundry is not completed on the same day it was started. (Just so long as nothing is left sitting wet in the washing machine. That’s just not okay.) The one thing that does drive me nuts is when the clean laundry sits in it’s basket, in the living room, perched ever so precariously on the end of the sofa as though someone took the time to move the basket but not to address it. (I’m totally guilty of that.)
But at the end of a long work day or just a long day sometimes all I can do is simply have a stare down with that clean basket of laundry and then throw it a Friend’s style middle finger as I head up to bed. It’ll all get done. Eventually. And then, it will start all over again.