I remembered to do it!
This is what you might call a minor miracle.
The thing is, I brought the laundry basket downstairs two days ago. Actually, the MotH* brought it downstairs—because of my pesky shoulder.
And therein lies the problem.
You see, the MotH took the basket all the way into the laundry room.
I rarely go into the laundry room unless I am doing laundry.
I don’t do laundry if I don’t remember that I have laundry to do.
My usual modus operandi when not actually starting the laundry the minute I bring it downstairs is to leave the basket in the middle of the floor in the more populated part of the house. That way, my feeble mind can be recalled to the necessity of transferring those clothes from the basket into the washing machine by the ever-present sight of the basket.
Fortunately, for some unknown and possibly miraculous reason, a little voice in my head announced, “Laundry,” a few minutes ago.
(This is a voice that should be encouraged. It needs a paycheck. Or cake!)
Anyway, I remembered the laundry, and I am doing the laundry, and this is a miracle on several levels.
First—that I remembered, second—that I have a washing machine and don’t have to go down to the creek with stones, and third—that I will have workout clothes for my next physical therapy session.
It’s not that my PT sessions are particularly strenuous, but I do think it’s wise to be able to move.
It’s not that I don’t have plenty of workout clothes.
It’s just that I don’t have very many respectable workout clothes, since I no longer belong to a gym. All in all, since I no longer go anywhere, almost, I don’t seem to have very many respectable clothes of any sort.
However, I have a couple of decent sets of workout clothes, and they are going to be clean.
Because I remembered the laundry!
* MotH = Man of the House
