Victory lap

The laundry basket has been giving me dirty looks from the corner of our bedroom for exactly nine days. Not that I was counting or anything.

Victory lap

But something about Sunday mornings makes me feel like I can conquer the world, starting with the mountain of clean clothes that somehow seemed less overwhelming when it was dirty and shoved in the hamper. Jake made coffee while I sorted everything into his pile, my pile, and the mysterious pile of socks that don’t seem to belong to either of us.

The before and after

There’s something ridiculously satisfying about turning chaos into neat little stacks. Like proof that I’m a real adult who can handle basic life maintenance. The fact that it only took forty-five minutes makes me wonder why I avoided it for over a week, but that’s probably a question for another Sunday.

Now if only folding fitted sheets didn’t require an engineering degree.