Personal

It's a Saturday night, and I'm doing the only household thing I know how to do; laundry. I get people to do all the other chores, so one might think it could be extended to laundry. But no. Laundry is too personal. I do not want anybody else rummaging through my underwear for one. Nor through my socks which always have a silly something printed on them. I love Hello Kitty socks, but how am going to explain it to someone else? Hello Kitty at 35? Well yes because firstly they're not going to show anyway so I might just as well wear whatever takes my fancy. More personal stuff, that's panties and bras, oh no nobody is going to see those, except, of course, anybody whom I like. But that's it. I have always wondered how people can take their laundry to a laundry shop and wash their clothes in full view. Worse to come is that you even call someone to come and pick up your unwashed things, and return them spotless. The spotless thing is cool, but the fact that some stranger has been handling my own personal effects... not a nice thought. There are some things which are way too personal to reveal, not counting some night of fiery red hot passion. Well it needn't be a night, it could be daytime, but somehow the night evokes the mystery which the day doesn't have. So it's me and the washing machine... which is a genius.