I'm really stupid, but at least I'm smart enough to know it. I'm not stupid about everything, but I'm really, really dumb about things like laundry. In every possible way that there is to do it wrong, I have excelled.
My latest effort is twofold. (I'm actually pretty good at folding.)
First, I let myself get down to zero socks and underwear. Now, part of this was on purpose. With the energy shortage, I've been saving up for big loads. But I didn't need to save up so long that I had no margin for error. I mean, what if I'd stepped in something or sat in something? I'd have had nothing to change into, unless I went through the hamper and picked the least gross things in there.
At the same time, I had just one T-shirt left in the drawer, and not wanting to wear fancy dress shirts to work, since I don't go to work and don't have to impress anyone with my impeccable appearance, I wanted to do shirts yesterday after underwear. That would make at least two, possibly three loads in one day.
I could have started as soon as I got back from my morning errands. Indeed, that was my intention, right up until the time I forgot about it. It was after six o'clock when I started the first load, but I conquered one of my previous laundry challenges by remembering to put the clothes in the dryer, and then remembering to take them out when the buzzer went off.
So, one down, one to go. It took two loads in the washer to do all the shirts, but I waited to dry them so that one cycle would take care of everything. My dryer isn't the swiftest appliance in the house (I'm not sure what is), so I set it for the maximum time of 110 minutes.
At eleven thirty I remembered that I hadn't heard the buzzer go off to let me know the shirts were dry. This isn't unusual, because I often have loud music or Ally McBeal (same thing) going on, or maybe I was having my sneezing fit when the thing buzzed.
When I went in to check, I was horrified to notice that the dryer had not gone down to zero. In fact, it was still set at 110 minutes. Obviously, I had carefully set the time and then completely forgotten to push the start button (or just didn't push it hard enough). My shirts were no drier than they were two hours before. Wetter, if possible, or so it seemed.
Not inclined to stay up all night to wait for my laundry to dry, I pushed the start button anyway. I took the shirts out this morning, and they were quite dry. The fact that I'll be wearing wrinkled shirts for the next two weeks will most likely not serve as a badly needed lesson. I will either do the same thing again next time, or pull some other unbelievably stupid stunt.
Because that's the way I am.