I came home last night and i’d actually had a fair amount of wine, and was feeling rather merry, and in a vague drunken stupor, i put a load of laundry on. most people throw up, eat a kebab, sleep with a stranger, discuss topics they have no knowledge of, but i, i do laundry.
The most annoying thing about doing laundry (apart from the noise our washing machine makes on its spin cycle, something akin to concorde making love to an over-amourous blue whale) is when you’re pulling the damp clothes out of the drum, you will (i will) always (always) drop a single damp sock into the tub of washing powder, coating its underside perfectly with fragrant persil. its a constant irritation, but not enough that i’ll move the location of the washing powder, or indeed just put the lid on. that would be too simple.
