Laundry is probably the task I look forward to least in my new Namulanda lifestyle (even though cleaning the toilets is a close runner up). Resourseful my ass – when I grow up I want to be rich and pay someone to wash my shirts and scrub my socks. It was okay the first time, connecting to the desperate housewife within, feeling like those local women I see outside their homes. They all seem so subdued and pleased to be making the world a cleaner place.
I’m not them.
I hate how you can scrub something for twenty minutes, but it’ll look just the same as it did before.
I hate the way the water is always brown and screaming “look what a dirty person you are!”
I hate how no matter how many clothes you wash, when you go back to your room, you will find at least one pair of dirty socks you forgot.
I hate how it’s impossible to wring out towels. And how emabrrassing it is that you actually feel like you’re getting a workout when you do it.
I hate how hard it is to hang up a wet sheet without becoming one yourself.
I hate how you know that you’re going to be in the same position one week from now. And the week after that.
I love how I never lose socks anymore! Not single socks, not whole pairs, no laundry machine is eating them maliciously, no more fear…