There are few times in life when every stitch of clothing I own is clean at the exact same moment.
Most days, either my laundry bag is so full it resembles a piece of bad public art, or my laundry is done, but 60% of my work wardrobe is in hock at the dry cleaner’s.
However, some weeks, the planets just line right up.
Saturday, I started the weekend by picking up my dry cleaning (trying to ignore the fact that the $68 I had to fork over just to get my own clothes back could have bought the little dress I noticed at Brooklyn Industries). Then, Sunday night, I did my laundry.
That meant this week started with perfect symmetry — my t-shirts and workout clothes and my dresses and blouses, all at the same level of clean.
I woke up this morning thinking “There is not a piece of dirty clothing to be found in this house. Everything is aligned, harmonious. This is the week everything is going to go right.”
That pleasant thought lasted for exactly half an hour, until I happened upon my cat peeing into my second-favorite handbag.
More on that TK in another post.