Even though I am home during the week, I still do laundry on the weekend. The habits of 25+ years of working die hard.
Yesterday afternoon, while folding the wash, I was hit by deja vu and struck by the thought that we have clocks and calendars on our mobile devices, our desks and our walls but I can mark the passing of another week by sitting on my bed matching socks and putting clean clothes back in drawers.
My friends call it “laundry” but my mom always said “wash” and so that’s how I refer to it. The world calls it “Sunday” butt to me it’s “Launday”.