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And then what
February 27, 2006 | Category: In My Life
I'm having my nice little breakdown here. Crying a lot. Overwhelmed. Really overwhelmed. The house looks like an 18-wheeler ran through it, then backed up (beep! beep! beep!) and ran it through again.
Over a week ago, I decided to attack the laundry that never got done. The piles at the bottom of the laundry chute. The stuff that had been sitting ignored (CD was in charge of laundry, I want to say it right here, OK? In charge of getting it clean. Is this noted for the record?). You know, blankets that needed washing. Summer clothes that got sorted out when winter came along. Hell if I know all the reasons.
Elia and I took a box of garbage bags and gathered it all up. We braved the chaos that is the basement and looked under beds and in the back corners of the closets. And we found 16 bags' worth.
I am SO not kidding.
I made CD turn himself around the moment he came home and help ferry me and the 16 bags and the jumbo bottle of Tide to the laundromat. I was in a royal snit. I mean... 16 bags?! I'm talking the big green bags here, not the skinny white ones.
And they got washed, and they got dried, and they got reloaded into the bags and into baskets and all stowed back in the van and then heaved and carried in the dark cold from the driveway into the family room.
Ah, but then what?
Then they had to be pulled out of the bags. And folded. And sorted. And good Lord, ironed. And some needed to be rewashed. And some mended. And some donated.
I have sat on that blasted coach, every day since, doing a little bit at a time.
Yes, it is not done yet.
Stewing, and angry, and blaming CD but not knowing why - other than the obvious that hey, he's a slob and that pisses me off in general.
Spring clean trips to the laundromat happen every year. All comforters, pillows, throw rugs and sundries. Things too big for our machines. A sweep of it all, to rinse away the dust of the long winter.
This year, however, as I try and get it all put away my brain is also doing a spring clean. With nothing to drag my attention away - like crazy managers and insane deadlines - my mind tries to process all the stuff it pushed away for the past half-decade. Just like the 16 bags of laundry.
Suddenly I find myself in these fugue flashes... experiencing the loss, and betrayal, and exhaustion more deeply now than I did back then, in the moment.
And it hurts.
It hurts to strip the rest away. I mean, of course I am still Bear's mother. I am CD's wife. I am my mother's daughter and my friend's friend and former soldier of a Fortune 200 corporation.
But in these days, with no fixed engagements and no meetings demanding attention.... there is mostly just this. And the laundry.
And I .... HATE folding laundry.