This is going to be a moronic post. Just so you know.
Okay, so lately I’ve been doing a lot of laundry, due to the fact that we went out of town, and I was backed up before then, and various other reasons entirely too boring to go into here. The upshot is that been folding a lot of clothes, as well as sheets. And let me tell you: I hate nothing more than trying to fold a fitted sheet. Nothing.
It’s impossible. You can try, even enlist someone to help you, and still, with your best effort, end up with what looks like a big messy pile, which you then shove into the linen closet to get even more wrinkled. I’ve written here before about my lack of the housekeeping gene—I am perfunctory at best—but this is one issue that has always bothered me. I mean, if I take the time to fold something, I want it to LOOK folded. And fitted sheets never do.
I don’t know why—too much spare time? too much caffeine? too much laundry?—but lately this has been bugging me more than normal. Especially since we went to the beach, and our house came with linens. I could not stop marveling over the fitted sheets. They were PERFECTLY folded. So yesterday, when I found myself again at the dryer, I decided to take action. I went to Google, typed in “folding fitted sheets” and a whole bunch of sites came up. This one, courtesy of Target, promises “100% perfect results, everytime.” Sounds good, right?
I got my sheet. Followed the instructions. And ended up with…a big, messy pile. I tried again. Then again. Still, nowhere near perfect. I am telling you, people: yesterday, I got obsessed with this. I kept doing it, and doing it, thinking I could figure it out, but no go. The closest I got was better than a pile, but nowhere near the picture. Or perfect, for that matter.
Do you ever just feel like you’re somehow missing some great point, obvious to everyone else? That’s how I felt yesterday, sitting on my bedroom floor wrestling with this sheet, which, incidentally, was so dirty from all the folding and dropping and flopsweat these entailed that now I have to wash it again. It’s a vicious cycle!
So now I’ve decided: it’s just not going to happen. I could keep messing with it, and drive myself even more nuts, or just realize that maybe I’m not meant to have a tidy linen closet. Maybe, my sheets are supposed to be in big, floppy piles, always moments away from lauching themselves upon you when you come looking or a simple washcloth. This is the state of my universe. It’s time to stop fighting it.
Now, if I could just get that thirty minutes of my life back. Oh, it doesn’t even matter. Let it go! Let it go!