Laundry

Things must happen in my life. Each day feels eventful and busy. But, as for something to share with you, I'm left with a big blank box. I feel the need to write. There is a little tug that reminds me I get the same satisfaction from posting a blog entry as from hanging my laundry out on the line to dry crispy in the sun. But my laundry, always an array of colors, feels particularly stained these days. In fact, it is looking downright bedraggled. I've aired all my pretty little underwear, bright-colored candies set out on a coffee table for all to see. All that's left today is the pair of gigantic, elastic-stretched grannies that have been washed so many times they're greyish white and almost see-through. You know them, right? The pair you sneak into the house and hang over the bathtub to dry so your neighbors won't have to be embarrassed for you. The ones you only still HAVE because, well, you're just so used to them.

This week, I've been walking around with my old, familiar, embarrassing underwear. I hope you don't mind if I just hang them in my bathroom. Please check the laundry line next week.