As I am procrastinating my laundry day, I have been forced into my penance panties. You khow the ones. They lurk in the back of the drawer, holey, without sufficient elastic, or just bad, waiting for that day you decide NOT to do laundry, waiting to torture you. It's not so much procrastination because a sick part of me actually likes doing laundry. I think it's the intoxicating smell of dryer sheets. But rather, I have not had the time to commit to such a massive chore. As it is, my laundry basket has morphed into a pile that is migrating towards the door. I wonder if I don't just let it go, it won't walk itself to the laundry. Hell, it can borrow the car for all I care. All the more reason I need a helper monkey.
Unfortunately, this meant wearing lace undies the same day I just spent several quality hours sitting on a hard chair. This is a bad combination along the lines of waffle-butt. And it just makes me even more grumpy about having to sit around and read more freakin' Beckett. But at least I get to do it in the comfort of my own squishy couch.
on iTunes: "Hey Boy. Hey Girl" - Chemical Brothers
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