Tag Archives: ironing

Holy Sheet

We all have certain chores that we don’t mind doing. Some people prefer washing dishes over vacuuming or taking out the trash over dusting the shelves. If you have more than one person at home, these tasks can be split up accordingly.

But when you live alone—or with a cat who still hasn’t pulled her own weight—all of these tasks fall to you. And aside from ironing, I have to say one thing I find extremely tedious is changing the sheets on my bed.

Let’s examine the process.

It starts with simply ripping off the covers and throwing the pillows and blankets in a heap on the floor with dramatic flair—and about 1/100th of the time it will take me to remake the bed.

It’s at this point I realize there’s no turning back and  swallow a small lump of panic. With the old sheets in the basket and the new sheets still folded in a pile, I am now committed to following through with the process if I want to sleep on sheets ever again.

Ever again!

Exhausted by the thought, I take the sheets from the shelf and let them rest on the bed for a bit while I rest for a bit on my own.


I will usually get (intentionally) distracted by something more interesting like watching the squirrels and cursing Disney movies for leaving me so disillusioned about small woodland creatures and their willingness to help me with chores.

But I steel myself up and return to my task, plowing through the bottom sheet and two pillows and fighting with the corners of death.


You know what I’m talking about.

The only thing harder than fitting the elastic-ish corners of the bottom sheet across each of the four ends of the mattress without one popping off every time is actually folding the bottom sheet when it comes out of the dryer.


Enter a quick break to test out the sheets and pillows, at which point I stare at the ceiling and decide I should probably wipe off the ceiling fan at that exact minute.

About 20 minutes later I continue on with my journey of placing the top sheet on with equal amounts of sheet on either side of the bed.


But no matter how hard I try, I end up walking back multiple times to pull the sheet a little bit more on one side before tucking it under the mattress.

If it’s too short on one side, I end up pulling the whole thing out when I get into bed. If I pull it too far up the front, my feet will poke out of the bottom and there’s a good chance I’ll wake up with the excess sheet wrapped around my head and panic that the cat’s trying to smother me.

Yup, still single, people.

Anyway, once sheet side distribution is complete, I triumphantly throw on the blanket with the flair of a matador waving his flag. After ensuring equal blanket distribution—see sheet step above—the task is finally complete a mere 45 minutes or so later.


Holy sheet.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it, but at least now the bed will have sheets.

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Ironing Out the Details

When I bought my house three years ago, I somehow got this idea in my head that I needed to buy an ironing board and an iron. This wasn’t predicated by the fact that I had an ironing compulsion or even ironed casually at any time before, so I’m not sure where this came from.

All I knew was that if I needed to iron something, I wouldn’t have an iron to accomplish the task. Never mind the fact that I was still in need of a couch or a bed at the time, I felt that before I moved in I needed an iron to prevent a possibly wrinkly situation.

So I bought the stuff and stored it in my linen closet, just in case I accidentally purchased something in the future that had a propensity for wrinkling when thrown in a ball on the floor (usually a deal breaker when factored into the purchasing decision, but sometimes I am fooled.)

This was the situation earlier this week when a new pair of freshly washed pants was left in the dryer too long.


I was ticked that I had purchased something with such an obvious character flaw—cracking under pressure, but also a little bit excited that I was going to be able to use my ironing supplies for the first time.

Yes, the first time in three years.

So imagine my disappointment when I went to my closet and came out with this.


It might just look like an odd angle or that it’s low to the ground, but let me post my shoe next to my ironing board for a size comparison…


…and now with my pants, in all their wrinkled glory.


Is it supposed to be that small? I remembered it being much bigger.                 (Insert inappropriate joke here.)

While I’m tall, I am not an 8-foot tall amazon woman with ridiculously long legs, which means this ironing board is better suited for the clothes of Uncle June than for the clothes for yours truly.

But when you have wrinkles and OCD, you have to take action, so I spent a good 15 minutes basically lying on the floor in an attempt to iron a pair of pants on a board two feet too short and elevated approximately two inches from the floor.

I suppose I could have put it on a table, but that would have involved finding an empty space large enough to accommodate the small board. Other than my glass kitchen table, I was kind of screwed.

Not to mention the fact that I thought about that 10 minutes after I had already ironed the pants.

But it was upon completion of this task that I discovered the one truly awesome thing about this ironing board—the absolutely delightful ease at which it collapses. In fact, it collapsed while I was ironing and I didn’t even notice.

Maybe I’m just “special,” but have you ever succeeded in collapsing a regular ironing board without spewing profanity or getting a random body part stuck in one of the two metal pieces that are somehow more difficult to master than a Mensa test?

Whenever I use a normal ironing board—usually only when I travel for work—I always just leave the damn thing up and use it as a table. Somehow I don’t think this would work in my upstairs hallway. Plus, then I would have to dust around it.

The moral of the story is that I should avoid shopping to avoid fighting with inanimate objects so I can avoid blogging about diminutively-sized ironing boards and instead sip a cocktail while sitting in the sun listening to the ballgame on the radio.

Well, at least that’s what I got out of it.

Is there an appliance that you avoid using so that you don’t have to clean it/fight with it/put it away?