my relationship with kleenex
I leaned over the open washing machine to transfer my clothes to the dryer and groaned silently. I had done it again! White clumps of wet tissue were distributed chaotically among my clean, wet clothes, clinging to them. And, it wasn't a little, it was a lot. I remembered throwing in a pair of pants, and realized that I had forgotten to pull out the wad of clean kleenex that lived in one pocket. I spent the next five or so minutes shaking out my clothes and collecting bits of kleenex from inside the washer, the floor, the dryer, my shirt (that I was wearing) before turning on the dryer.
I admit that I'm a kleenex hoarder. I have allergies, and I have had allergies since I was a baby. Wherever I am, there will be kleenex. I leave kleenex (used and new) in my living space (gross, I know), in my pockets, and it gets into the wash, too. I've tried to reform. I try to remember to check my pockets (ALL my pockets) before doing a load of laundry, but sometimes I forget.
I admit that I'm a kleenex hoarder. I have allergies, and I have had allergies since I was a baby. Wherever I am, there will be kleenex. I leave kleenex (used and new) in my living space (gross, I know), in my pockets, and it gets into the wash, too. I've tried to reform. I try to remember to check my pockets (ALL my pockets) before doing a load of laundry, but sometimes I forget.