Just last week I promised to do the laundry at least twice in a week. However, I would always gravitate to my lappy and the tv as soon as I awoke. House cleaning is really not the first thing I have in mind every morning. So, I don't look forward to it unless I'm in the mood or want to keep myself preoccupied.
Now, yesterday I started doing the laundry since a week's soiled clothes have already piled up and I ended today. Oh, no... tomorrow since I still have a few towels and bedsheets left to scrub.Darn! My spine's already aching and my hands and arms won't stop acting up. Husband said to just have it sent to a laundromat at least it'll save me the trouble of the routines of laundry, but I'm meticulous to my soiled clothes and his and pragmatic 'cause it'll probably cost too much. Why bother when I have a washer and drier, right? Maybe when I get sick and can't do the laundry (which never happened since we got married years back), then I'll have it serviced 'cause I know that even if hubby offers to do it himself, he'll most likely end up disappointing me. He's best on the couch watching animal shows on Discovery or Nat Geo channels rather than duplicating my techniques on doing the laundry. Don't get me wrong he has other more endearing qualities than helping me with the chores and one of them is fixing broken things. Like this afternoon when my drier suddenly screamed a horrible noise, he was quick on his toes to check up on me... errr, the drier. And yep, almost a year of being the drier that it should serve me, I almost fell on the floor to conclude that it has already started giving up on me. Please, not yet. So, to prove my husband's worth in the DIY department, he rushed to his tool box and extracted a couple of tools some of which I've only seen for the first time. A few screwing (no pun intended) here and there and my drier is good as new... well, somewhat.
I realized afterwards that had it not been for the handyman that he is I'd probably end up squeezing the remaining clothes which can worsen the condition of my aching hands and arms. Well, at least we both served our worth. He might not be the perfect candidate to be a substitute in my absence or in my unpredictable future demise, at least he remains my perfect handyman. And so to end this charade with my spin drier, I will have myself some coffee while I rest my back and catch up on The Good Wife.
