This will probably be the most inane post started today, but I feel like bitching.

I have a disease. I got it from my mother. I'm not sure if it's genetic or one of those lingering contagious things.

I iron.

And what's worse: I'm a binge-and-purge ironer. I haven't ironed since June because I hate to iron in the summer. After laundry last week, I now have 80 pieces of clothing in my ironing closet, more than I have in my regular (post-ironed) closet.

I'm running out of excuses. I'm also running out of clothing. So I'm going to do it.

Math quiz: if each garment takes an average of 10 minutes to iron, where did I store the butterfly nets?

[Razz] [Razz] [Razz] [Razz] [Razz] [Roll Eyes] [Roll Eyes]