Remember the Island of Misfit Blogs? Well, I found some of those blogs mostly written in my GotC email drafts folder. It’s a miracle! Or a shocking lack of organization.
Please enjoy this laundry post that I wrote months ago and which terrifyingly still holds true today. Maybe I’m some kind of visionary. Probably not though, I think the more likely explanation is that there really is a curse on my laundry.
Something bad happened y’all. Real bad. Someone has put a curse on my laundry. I revealed last week that I have a bad habit of not taking my clothes to the dry cleaners and then ruining them in my washer. And that’s on me y’all. That’s on me. I admit that. But something else is going on with my laundry, something way more sinister than shrinking sweaters in the dryer. My laundry is multiplying. MULTIPLYING. Exponentially.
Like the Geminio curse (you know the one, the one that almost made Harry Potter and friends drown in a sea of golden goblets in Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault at Gringotts. Yeah, you know the one.) my laundry is taking over my entire apartment and I’m afraid to fall asleep because an underwear avalanche could happen at any moment. My laundry is EVERYWHERE. On couches, chairs, the dryer, the washer, in the laundry basket, on the floor, and in the refrigerator. (One of those is an exaggeration). And no matter how much I wash and dry my clothes, they keep showing up not folded in my dresser or hanging up in my closet. They have been cursed and can not enter those places, so they find other places in my apartment to live. Seriously, my apartment looks as if I might be a clothes hoarder and yet there is plenty of room in my closet and dresser but I just….can’t….get….the clothes….there.
I suspect Steven Spielberg is behind the curse.