Peach Blossom Mist

I had planned 736 things to do today and not one of them is going to get done because I’ve already given up and it’s only 8:00 a.m.

Here is my washing machine. And as much as I would like to just toss these things into my dryer with a Bounce sheet and be done with it, I can’t. They’ve been sitting in my washing machine for approximately three days now and while you can’t tell from the safety of your home, in my home the sour stench emanating from my washer is about to make my eyes bleed. So I’m going to have to rewash them in blazing hot water with bleach and/or vinegar at least twice before they make it to the dryer. Can you tell this is a well trodden path for me? I am physically incapable of remembering to switch loads upon hearing the buzzer, in much the same way Nate is physically incapable of telling me he’s got something planned until five seconds before it happens. It’s just not in our DNA. And if I had an inkling of pride, I would have photoshopped that dirt ring right out of this photo but my pride jumped ship about twenty-five pounds ago so there you have it.

And once I do rewash that load, these are waiting for me.

Just looking at them sucks my will to live.

Maybe I’d feel happier about my predicament if I actually enjoyed being in my laundry room. Maybe deep down I subconsciously try to avoid my laundry room as much as possible because when it comes right down to it, I just don’t like it in there. When we bought this house, I was overjoyed that I was finally going to have a first floor laundry room. I had big plans for that room, plans that included gleaming white shelves, lace curtains, satellite radio and lots of wicker hand baskets. But those dreams took the express line straight to hell in one of those baskets because the key word here is “had.” As in, past tense. As in, I was delusional.

Notice the color of the walls? They’re a pale lilac, if you can’t tell. I hate them. Hate them with a deep, raging passion I usually reserve for bullies and those occasions when TiVo stops recording one minute before Lost actually ends.

I wanted a soft, pale peach for my laundry room. It was called Peach Blossom Mist and it gave me warm fuzzies and I loved it and it loved me. When I suggested it to Nate, he had to take what some refer to as “a moment” when he became very quiet and still for several minutes. When he came to, he calmly told me that Peach Blossom Mist did not match the flooring he had just spent all day installing. When I responded with something along the line of “who cares?” Nate had the closest thing to a seizure without actually having a seizure and from that, I got the general impression that LAUNDRY ROOM WALLS MUST MATCH LAUNDRY ROOM FLOORS, OR ELSE NOTHING WILL MAKE SENSE AND IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO MAKE SENSE IN THIS GOD FORSAKEN WORLD WE LIVE IN?

I’ve learned to pick and choose my battles and thus far, I’ve managed to keep my sanity at a level hovering just above nervous breakdown so I didn’t push it. I told myself that it was just a laundry room after all and nobody other than myself was going to spend any quality time in there so was it really that big of an issue that a good cry and Dove chocolate couldn’t cure? So I caved, otherwise known in the world of marital bliss as “compromised.” Before I knew it, Light Lilac or Pale Purple or whatever the hell you want to call it adorned my walls and my laundry room was declared “done.” It’s now 13,927 loads of laundry later and despite some heavy duty Dove gorging, I’m just not feeling the love.

Every time I am in that room, trying to maneuver among the swarm of dirty underwear and wet towels, I am immediately struck by the fact that I can’t even see the 2 foot by 4 foot section of flooring that shattered my dreams because of the amount of stuff, otherwise known as crap, covering it and I get an annoying little tick in my left eye. And it occurs to me amidst flurries of lint flying about my head and up my nose that if I could have foreseen the sheer number of hours I was going to spend in this very room prying apart sticky, sweaty, smelly socks from one another ad nauseam, I would have fought a whole lot harder for Peach Blossom Mist. And a hazmat suit.

I think we need to revisit this room, Nate. I think you know me well enough to realize I’m not above holding your comfy Fruit of the Looms hostage and the way I figure, you are the last person on the face of this planet to consider going commando so I think I’ve got some pretty good leverage.

I get my Peach Blossom Mist, Frank and Beans get to stay ensconsed in the 100% cotton comfort to which they’ve grown accustomed and all is right with the world.

And then maybe we can discuss a possible do-over of my office? Nate?

Share this post

20 thoughts on “Peach Blossom Mist”

  1. Avatar

    OMG!!! I almost spewed my coffee onto my keyboard reading this! lol! In fact I rushed to turn on Messenger to TELL you that I also had a 3day old load of wash STILL in the washer! ewwww………. umm?? I use apple vinegar;)

  2. Avatar

    I totally love everything you have written! I can identify on Sooooo many levels! Washing is the bane of my life and totally depresses me 🙁

  3. Avatar

    Poor Nate and his Fruit of the Looms. ROFL!!!!!!!!! I can’t forget my laundry. Someone would steal it. apartment living sucks. As my washer and dryer live in my garage. :o( Good luck with peach blossom mist!

  4. Avatar

    Um, I’ve got a couple loads to do . . . . I’ll just slip them in with yours . . . you won’t notice a few extra loads, will ya??

    Great writing! Enjoyed reading your blog!

  5. Avatar

    Aw come on Nate, be a pal, a great buddy and give the sweet loving woman hold you underwear hostage what she wants will ya? If that doesnt work ship those underwear (clean please) to me and Ill hold them in WI until the landry dry room is the way you want it. lol

  6. Avatar

    OMG I got a good chuckle girl….great post and I’m glad I’m not the only one who goes through things like this..well somewhat similar…hehe

  7. Avatar

    I remember the days with 2 boys growingup in the house! One a sport jock and the other a hunter! Husband rebuilds antique cars ect! Not a clean one in the house! Now that it is just my husband and myself,We each have our own clothes basket! What a joy to do MY wash! All stainless and not smelly! I can wash my husbands in 2 loads and not have a total breakdown! The joy of getting older! I think back on the old days when I made piles on the floor in the basement,sometimes 12 loads! I would work all day and get them done,folded and put away,only to have them come home and cover their bedroom floors with dirty clothes again! Oh the tears I shed! Now I go to threir homes and see the piles!!!! Yes payback time I love it! Now I do maybe 6 loads a week! Piece of cake!!!!!!

  8. Avatar

    Oh my, i’m glad I didn’t have anything in my mouth or it would have been all over my laptop! You write some funny stuff.

    I can totally relate to the laundry. I just hate it, HATE IT I tell you!

    Hey how about altering those lavender walls with some peach paper? then you could really doctor it up!

    Have a great day!

  9. Avatar

    Your blog is just soooo funny – I know you are in America (I’m an Aussie!) – yes please keep reading still…. But three day old washing smells the same horrible smell in EVERY country. I laugh about your teenage girls and I honestly think there are worse – LIKE THREE TEENAGE (or one is just pre teen) BOYS – yes they are smellier and THEY love it!! GO figure – they send messages to each other of themselves farting into their phone – like ewwww, then they put their phone up to their faces to talk into it – GROSS !

    Love your blog and I am going to be telling all my friends about the great read!

    Thanks Jenny

  10. Pingback: Date night at Home Depot « Creative Junkie’s Blog

  11. Avatar

    Loved reading this….you have a wit reminescent of Erma Bombeck. Name unfamiliar? Erma was the sharp witted humorist who helped my generation laugh at ourselves, our lives and helped keep us sane amidst kids, chores and husbands. You should complile these into a book. Use the title of the blog maybe and publish it! Millions of feel good humor books are bought every day.

  12. Pingback: wicker laundry baskets

  13. Pingback: A second go at Peach Blossom Mist … |

  14. Avatar

    I’m on my second day here on your blog, starting from the beginning, and I just have to say:

    “How’d you get the beans above the franks?”

  15. Pingback: A bathroom makeover is in my future |

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *