Of late, I’ve noticed little things in my home, little things that didn’t really matter to me before but now do. Like the broken doorknob in the guest bathroom. The squeaky hinge of my wardrobe door. The countless number of bulbs in our living room that have blown and have yet to be replaced. The organized mess of E’s toys and things in our living room. The pile of clean laundry at the back of the kitchen, our washing area, yet to be folded and ironed. The watermarks from a pipe leakage left on our living room wall, which is beginning to look black and mouldy. Two months ago, I had to have my shower and brush my teeth at night in the dark in my bathroom because the bathroom lights weren’t working, but Hubby soon fixed that up, thank goodness.
I never was a faddy or fussy person, but now that I work all day and only come home at night, these little things irk me. It can be annoying when you’re tired and want to rest and relax when you come home, and then find that things aren’t working the way they’re supposed to be.
One thing I find that I’m constantly doing is washing and drying clothes: I do that so often I wonder how much clothes Hubby and I have. Every 2-3 days, I load an almost full load into the washing machine, and thereafter, into the dryer. I have to wash my gym clothes everyday, mainly because I don’t like to leave sweaty clothes around and because I only have one pair of decent gym pants. As a result, the amount of clean laundry piling up usually happens faster than I can fold and iron them out.
Sigh. What I’d give to have some live-in help.