To a normal person this is a useless photo of something unbelievably ordinary; three empty laundry baskets sitting in a hallway. But because they are my three laundry baskets they mean something else entirely. They symbolise something so unbelievably awesome to someone like me.
I. Finished. The. Ironing.
All of it.
Laugh all you want at the mediocrity of this milestone, but the exhaustion my legs are feeling from hours of standing by my ironing board speaks the enormity of it. This hasn’t happened in over six months. Actually I don’t think I’ve managed to clear the ironing pile since the Australian Open finals last year. In fact, over the past four seasons the pile has just grown and grown, first filling up one basket, and then another and then it just overtook our spare room… I even got to the point where just looking at the size of the ironing pile was paralysing and I was tempted to just buy new clothes and donate all the unironed ones.
So today I pushed on (and on and on and on) until every single business shirt, dress and polo was crisp and crease free. It’s taken over a week in total to get the mountain down to three empty laundry baskets… and damn it feels good. I can barely feel my legs and we have run out of coat hangers, but I’m cheering. Well… cheering inside and trying not to think about the next load of dirty laundry waiting to be done. 😐
To all the other peeps (especially the mamas!) with piles of unfolded/unsorted/unironed clothes scattered around the house, I feel you. This is a (shortlived) moment of glory for me, and I’m sure you understand the satisfaction. 🙂