Im just so damn tired. I cant seem to find my second wind. Why wont this damn house stay clean? Oh yeah ..... I live here. And we wont even speak of the laundry. I have chalked the not-doing-of the laundry up to location. I have come to learn that the location of the washer/dryer variety is key to this being a somewhat simple task, pleasurable by no means. The location of mine is two flights of stairs down and the through a door into the garage. Bugs. One word people, that one word sends chills of fright down my spine. Lets have a mental picture shall we? I have gathered a load of laundry and need to take it downstairs to wash and dry it. Now the laundry basket would come in handy here, but it never is, here. So the clothes are now all cradeled inbetween your two arms, hands clenching those few pieces trying to escape from underneath. Down the hall, down the stairs, around the corner, down more stairs. Lets not forget I have FIVE cats, all making damn sure they are right underneath my feet! Now I have to open the door, this requires leaning forward against the wall beside the door until laundry is wedged between said door and myself so that I may release a hand and open the door then through the door kicking it shut before all cats fly through it and I have to spend thirty minutes trying to get them out of the garage. Now I am in the garage. Bugs. My every move has to be carefully probed by my eyes first and given code green bug free security before I will take a step, then well you know I do the laundry just like you do from that point. But shit its getting to that point. But it has to be done. Blah.
