I really don’t like to iron; still I iron all outerwear for both Earl and me. If you return to February 2024, you’ll find blogs about this. Not the dislike of ironing, but the compulsion to do it. And the need for a new iron and a new board. It’s four months later; I have the new items. And because the previous ones were decades old, my new ones are more efficient.
Still . . . I wish I could just wear clothes that come out of the dryer, warm and soft. And perhaps I could if I were in charge of washing them. But this is one of Earl’s “jobs” in our household. And he isn’t inclined to jump up when the dryer stops to hand press clothing so it doesn’t need an iron.
So . . . my options seem limited. I could opt to take over the laundry, but who knows if I would be Johnny-on-the-spot and remove clothing when the buzzer goes off? Truthfully, probably not. I could ask Earl to jump up, but that probably won’t work either. Which leaves the options of continuing to iron or of wearing unpressed clothing.
I doubt anyone else will notice, which means I need to work on my psyche and assure it that pressed clothing is a compulsion on my part and not a requirement for the universe. It also means negating decades of obligation to the pressed seam and the smooth blouse in favor of using the ironing time to more satisfying endeavors. Wish me luck.
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