My Unfinished Laundry

Little by little the pile is growing higher and higher each day. They are my unfinished business that I left in the corner, and sometimes I wish them to disappear in a snap. It is like a resolution that never gets ressolved. My own mount of Everest, that is what I call them, my clean laundry that mounts so high in my magic laundry basket waiting for me to press them. I call it magic because it seems filling up by itself. It is never empty. But really, who is still doing cloth pressing these days? I am.

When the world is worried about the global economic downturn, riot in Tunisia, Flood in Australia and Philipine, Landslide in Brazil and the endless war of Israel - Palestine, here I am seating on my sofa worrying about my unfinished clothing pile. When is it going to explode? All I need to have is a chance to get into it. The chance that is hardly available with two little boys wandering the house at all time. Of course it is just an excuse to get away with it. The mood is actually the one that takes over my capability of vanishing the 'magic' from the basket and turn the pile into properly pressed and folded clothes.

I can have all the good mood from around the world to vacuum the floor, mopping it, wash the dirty dishes, cook and do some other household stuff, but when it comes to the 'Everest' the mood suddenly disappears. When this is the case, do I still have the right to be surprised with my son's almost-empty-underwear-drawer? Can I hold some grudges when I fail to find some clothes that I need to wear in my cupboard knowing that they may have been buried for ages inside the pile?