Bad Housekeeping

I had some stuff to do tonight.  Domestic-type stuff.  It seemed like a good idea to do these things concurrently.

The problem here: I don't multi-task well.  Nor do I domesticate, really.

I was planning to make some pasta.  This is a task that is normally not a problem.  I bought some ground turkey to throw in with the sauce to inject some protein.  Except this was not regular ground turkey, it was Italian Seasoned.  Mostly I bought the Italian Seasoned turkey because I had just come in from the arctic cold and wanted to exit the refrigerator section as quickly as possible and it was the first ground turkey I saw.  But, you know, buono apppetito or whatever.  I can tell you that it's not a subtle seasoning.  In fact, I went through about a half a bottle of Febreeze Air Effects spray, seeing as how opening the windows to freshen the air is really not an option at the moment.

Before I even got to the turkey though, I boiled some water in the largest pot I own so I could make an entire box of pasta.  Then I discovered that the entire box from my pantry was actually more like half-full.  What to do?  Well, there was also a slightly less than half-full box of lasagna noodles.  Because they give you too many noodles for one pan, but not enough for two.   It's a scam perpetrated by Big Pasta to get us perpetually buying lasagna noodles.  I bet Big Sauce and Big Ricotta are in on it too.  Also possibly the mafia.

So there I was, cooking up a big pot of half macaroni, half broken up lasagna noodles, while browning some terribly fragrant Italian Seasoned turkey.  When it occurred to me that my laundry had been in the washing machine for a very, very long time.  But I have just promised my mother that I would try not to burn the house down, and I believe that the first rule of not burning the house down has to do with not leaving things unattended on the stove.  So in the washer my laundry sat.  Which couldn't really have hurt much, since I stuffed that machine so full that I wasn't entirely convinced that all of my laundry would even get wet, much less clean.

I did eventually finish cooking (with a minimum of noodles stuck to the pan due to neglectful lack of stirring) (unless you consider a minimum to be zero or any number lower than about eight) and draining and stirred up the pasta and turkey with some Paul Newman marinara sauce (mmmm...philanthropic) and somewhere in there, I got my laundry changed.  The dryer ran for all of three seconds before quitting.  My knowledge of appliance repair consists entirely of unplugging and replugging-in, which, as luck would have it, totally worked.  So I was not forced to drape wet socks and underwear all over my apartment.  This is fortunate, seeing as how my apartment is being shown tomorrow.  Because I didn't commit yet to resigning my lease, which is up in AUGUST.

Actually, the whole apartment showing thing, even more than a dwindling underwear supply, is what inspired the laundry-doing.  Because I knew I'd have to actually put the laundry away before I went to bed instead of leaving it in the basket for a week or two until I need the basket again to transport the big pile of dirty laundry from the floor of my closet downstairs to the machine.

Bringing us to now. 

It's 11:00 and I'd like to be in bed soon.  Except my bed is currently covered in clean laundry, both from the load I just washed and what was left in the basket from the last time I did laundry.  All except the one shirt that I changed into when I got up here so I could soak up its hot just-out-of-the-dryer goodness.  Best part of the whole night.

Probably I should clean the bathroom too, but really, how do you know if you can imagine living somewhere until you can picture yourself cleaning the already-dirty bathroom?  I am doing this potential renter a favor.  You're welcome, person attempting to make sure I have to move again come summer, even though I am only one third of the way into a year lease.

I suppose I better go shove the laundry into drawers fold my laundry and put it away so I can get to bed.

Oh, in case you're wondering, the end result of my Turkey Lasagnaroni Italiano?  Zesty!