Sometimes I have to ask myself why I bother trying to get the laundry done? Clearly some higher power doesn't ever want the day to come that I can say, "Gee, all the clothes, towels, sheets, etc, are finally all clean!"
This weekend was supposed to be one of those 'catch up on everything' weekends. Everybody is out but me - and I actually like it that way. DD had a sleepover which spilled into a birthday party today. DS and DH are at the NY Comic Con and I'm home with BIG plans to do the laundry and sit down with all my WIPs spread out around me and decide which one deserves to be finished first.
So I started by taking down the kitchen curtains to wash because the cats have made a mockery of them. Did that load, straightened up the house, went through all the superfluous paperwork on my desk, paid a few bills. Then I tossed in another load of laundry and folded towels, checked my e-mail etc. Now comes time for the third load and as I'm walking down the basement stairs I see wet cat footprints.
So I have to wonder, who has been doing what and why. I follow the wet footprints to a puddle on the basement floor. A big puddle. Great. Something is leaking and it has to do with the washing machine. Which means I can't do any more laundry until I find out what's wrong or buy a small canoe for getting around in the basement.
I suppose I should look at this as the universe telling me to forget the laundry and sit down and work on my stories...but really it just seems more like the universe is laughing its butt off at my expense - and by expense I mean whatever I will have to pay the plumber to fix the frakkin' leak.