The MOG has contracted the plague, and has taken to his sickbed. I usually like to poke a bit of fun at men when they are sick, and him especially, but I just had this and I know how bad it really feels. There was one time this morning, when I took the throat spray in there and he kinda gasped and stretched a feeble hand out from amidst the piled blankets.... but no, no joking until next week, when it passes.
I am feeling good. In fact, I gave serious thought to doing some laundry today.
This is how far that went.
That's all clean. I figure, by tonight, all the clothes in the house will be clean, maybe even folded and sorted. Then they will sit in folded piles and baskets in my room for days and days, and eventually they will either make it to their drawers (unlikely) or be recycled back into the Laundry Cave of Wonders, located in the basement next to the big spider and the burnt out florescent light. Then the magical Laundry Fairy will start all over again.
But for now, it's a rainy day in a quiet house and I should read a book. Adios.