Let me begin by saying that these new laundry tags have not made me a better person.
I know you expected this to happen to me. We're all shocked.
Here's what they did, though: they have made me happier when I walk into a garage brimming with stinky socks. And this is worth something, right? And while we're on the topic, let me share that if I could capture the natural scent of my laundry-room-in-the-garage right now and sell it, then that would mean there was a market for a HOME COLOGNE called something like...
NIGHT OF HORROR
SOUR SWEAT BALLS
HOLY MISUSED AXE SPRAY, BATMAN
I'm just saying that if the right market conditions open up, I'm ready.
So capturing a skoshe of happiness in the Room of All That Is Foul is actually quite something.
And we all know that the fact that these basket tags are made with old sheets scraps of polyester puts my soul at ease. Also positive.
I began this journey into Improved Laundry Life with wind of a system that one friend uses: a basket for everyone--one person's dirty clothes in their own basket; dirty clothes washed; washed clothes dried; dried clothes back in the basket. (And in my case: basket dumped directly into jr. high boy drawer.)
I found myself, however, standing in the middle of my garage surrounded by aforementioned scents, concentrating so hard to sort by person that I almost bled through my armpits. Also I was getting mad at people for putting dish towels in with little girl shirts. This seemed like an unnecessary side effect of a new laundry system--increased aggitation.
So I gave that part up. I'm pretty much doing my old laundry system, which isn't really a system as much as a frantic holding back of a constantly threatening tide (think Luke and Leah in the garbage compactor with the walls moving in).
A smaller accomplishment than I'd envisioned, but frankly, people: I'll take it.
I will now go eat carbs and journal all day.