After about two and a half weeks of the creeping crud and a cough that wouldn’t quit, I had a pile of clothes to the ceiling. I started some wash last week… and it has taken me at least another week to get to the bottom of the pile. There are only two of us using the clothes. You would think that the piles would be smaller.
I carry a laundry basket filled two or three batches of clothes. I carefully walk down the stairs from our apartment. Left toe, foot, then right foot on same stair. I do this all the way down. I am unbalanced and deathly afraid that one day I will bounce, just once, and fall down those stairs.
When I reach the car, I pop the trunk and throw the basket into the back. I drive the car the the front of the apartment complex where the laundry room is then I drag the clothes in and start the wash.
By this time, I am so tired that I sit on a green plastic chair and listen to the sound of washing machines and bouncing clothes. After about 1 1/2 hours, I fold the clothes and start the trek back to the apartment.
It is exhausting.