Inconsistencies
I'm in the mood to rant today and I thought I'd share.

So, I get home from the gym and am pretty tired. All I want to do is grab a bowl of cereal, jump online, check email, do some writing and relax.

However, there is a week's worth of laundry sitting in my bathroom that needs to be done. Pretty much any other chore can be put off, but laundry is a must. If you don't do it, you have to either wear dirty clothes (which a friend of mine did in college...he'd take a dryer sheet and rub it all over his dirty clothes before heading to class) or buy new ones.

So I psych myself up for laundry. Now, I don't know what your laundry situation is, but we live on the second floor of a two family house. The washer and dryer are in the basement and we can use them for free. The only problem is that in order to get to the basement from the second floor you have to actually leave the house and walk outside and around the house to these old-fashioned cellar door type things in the driveway. Real nice.

Ordinarily, I honestly don't mind it. Sure it sucks to be tramping around outside with a hamper full of dirty (or clean depending on which direction you're walking) clothes. Sometimes I feel like the people who're driving by are secretly judging me and my dirty clothes. They are mocking me and my basement washer and dryer. At home, they have lovely machines in the laundry room off the kitchen and they joyfully load them up every day of the week just because they can.

But back to the story. Today, I really didn't want to put on my winter jacket and mittens for the trip around the house with my hamper of dirties. But I did. I psyched myself up by telling myself that the laundry will be done by the afternoon and then I can enjoy myself tonight and tomorrow. I put on my sweats, my fleece, and my boots, but because I was feeling rather crazy, I decided to eighty-six the mittens. I'm from Minnesota. I can do without mittens for the trip to the basement.

So I lug the laundry downstairs, out the front door and around the house where I find that the path to the basement doors has not been shoveled. No matter. I'm wearing boots. I slug through the snow. I get to the doors. I pull on them. And nothing happens. They are not moving.

Thinking that perhaps it is just the weight of the snow keeping then down, I pull my mittenless hands into the arms of my fleece and start to wipe the snow away before I try again. The problem? The doors are frozen shut.

And now comes the point of the title of this entry. After having to psych myself up for the task of doing laundry, I'm inconsistently furious at not being able to do the chore I hate so much. If only I could get in there and take care of this laundry, I think, life would be heavenly. Clean clothes are so close and yet so far away.

After pulling on the doors for about five minutes to no avail, I gave up and am now upstairs, back online, trying to relax. Yet, the laundry downstairs is calling to me...mocking me...much like the drivers mock me with their off-the-kitchen-laundry rooms at home. All I can think about is this laundry and how it mocks me! Mock away dirty laundry! But I'll get you another day!