It's quiet, repetetive. Grab the shoulders, flip the sleeves back. Tuck. Drop. Done. Move on.
With only the humming of the dryer finishing up heavier items, an empty laundry room is a place to take a breath and let the mind wander, gather itself, and categorize a to-do list. It's neat, orderly. Just like the individual stacks of polos and shorts and shirts that line the counter.
Folding laundry is like piecing together a puzzle you know will fit together because you've done it so many times. There are no questions, no mischance. Except, perhaps, a missing sock.
Never underestimate the power of static cling.
Once everything is sorted, then, all the pieces disappear into their own drawers, each in its rightful place. Socks reunited with their mates. Handkerchiefs pressed and folded. Towels hung up to hide bare walls.
It's perfect, really. What more is there to wish for?
From order to chaos to order. Neatly defined. Plainly made.
