Dirty Laundry

Right now,
My room
Stinks. Badly.
Not because of Bradley (roommate).
But because of me.

Which got me thinking why in the world my room stinks. Here are a couple reasons:
1. I have soccer practice 3 times a week. By the end of this rigorous run session, sweat expels from my body at an
exponential rate.
2. I took the youth group on a float trip. Who would have thought that the Illinois River hosted a fowl stench that
floated alongside our canoes.

And so, my room stinks. Badly.
Which got me thinking about doing laundry.
I like doing laundry. With total control- separation, detergent, temperature, and load size are at my discretion. When i do laundry, i like to separate my clothes into 4 loads: whites, blacks/navy's, bright colors, and "others." I am quite particular about this process. Then i go through the regular routine of wash, rinse, repeat. And then through the dryer for a cycle or two, ending at the folding table where I fold and refold until each item reaches its correct appearance, hanging up a few articles along the way.

And then i got to thinking. You can learn a lot about a person by simply "doing laundry" together. I'm not talking about when a person airs out their "dirty laundry." Or sharing a washer with someone's "delicates." I'm talking about how someone compulsively loads, dries, and folds their clothes. Laundry reveals the real person. True colors come out. They don't fade in the wash, but they brighten as nature is cleared of stains concealing personality.

I think i like laundry because it makes me transparent. There is nothing to hide, simply my neurotic, obsessive self concerned about every color and every crease.