Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: domesticity

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    From Socks to Sartre: Finding Philosophy in the Laundry Basket

    Let’s be honest, folding laundry isn’t exactly the most thrilling activity. In fact, it often feels like a never-ending cycle of wash, dry, repeat. But recently, while sorting through a mountain of mismatched socks (seriously, where does the other half go?!), I had a sudden realization: laundry is a metaphor for life. Okay, maybe not life in its entirety, but definitely for some of its more perplexing aspects.

    Laundry Mystery for the Ages

    Take the aforementioned sock dilemma, for example. It’s a universal truth that socks vanish into a mysterious abyss, never to be reunited with their partners. This, my friends, is a profound philosophical quandary. Do these missing socks represent the incompleteness we all feel in some way? Are they a metaphor for the fleeting nature of relationships? Or maybe, just maybe, there’s a mischievous sock monster living in my dryer, hoarding them for its own nefarious purposes. (Okay, that last one might be a stretch, but you have to admit it’s a possibility!)

    Stain Removal: A Metaphor for Life’s Little Messes

    And then there’s stain removal. Ah yes, the art of battling stubborn blotches with an arsenal of sprays, powders, and pre-treatments. It’s a delicate dance between patience, persistence, and the sheer will to not let that rogue spaghetti sauce stain win. But you know what? Stain removal isn’t just about saving your favorite shirt from a tragic end. It’s about confronting life’s little messes head-on. It’s about learning to adapt, problem-solve, and emerge victorious (or at least with a slightly less noticeable stain).

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry




    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    We all have our mundane chores, those necessary evils of adulting that we begrudgingly squeeze into our schedules. For me, it’s laundry. And while I can’t say I enjoy the act of sorting, washing, drying, and (shudder) folding, I’ve discovered that laundry time is when my brain chooses to unleash its most philosophical musings.

    The Case of the Missing Sock: A Metaphor for Life?

    It happened again last week. I meticulously paired socks, ensuring each colourful duo entered the washing machine together. Yet, as I triumphantly pulled the last damp garment from the dryer, a lone, striped sock stared back at me. Its partner? Vanished.

    sock. But as I held that solitary sock, I couldn’t help but ponder: Is this not a reflection of life itself? We search for connections, for things that complete us, only to find that sometimes, things just disappear. We’re left with the lingering question: where do they go, these missing pieces? Are they off living their best lives in some single sock utopia? Or are they destined to remain forever lost, a cautionary reminder of life’s unpredictable nature?

    The Great Fabric Softener Debate: Choosing Your Laundry Values

    Okay, maybe this isn’t exactly a philosophical quandary on par with the meaning of life, but hear me out! Choosing a fabric softener is more than just picking a scent. It’s about aligning yourself with a certain laundry ethos.

    Do you prioritize softness above all else, embracing a cloud-like existence for your towels and t-shirts? Or are you all about that fresh-out-of-the-dryer scent, even if it means sacrificing a bit of cuddle factor? Perhaps you’re a no-frills, eco-conscious type, opting for unscented, hypoallergenic efficiency.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)




    The Side-Eye From a ZZ Plant

    “Did you water me today?” My boyfriend asks from the living room. I glance up from my laptop, squinting suspiciously at the large ZZ plant in the corner.

    “Maybe?” I reply, my voice laced with feigned innocence.

    He chuckles, used to my, shall we say, flexible approach to plant care. But here’s the thing: I swear that ZZ plant just gave me the side-eye. You know the one – a subtle tilt of the…leaf? Stem? Whatever. The point is, I could feel the judgment radiating from its vibrant green foliage. It’s moments like these that make me question if my plant has silently appointed itself the guardian of my domesticity (or lack thereof).

    Dust Bunny Rebellion

    Speaking of guardians, let’s talk about the dust bunnies. They’re not so much guardians as they are a mischievous army, constantly plotting to overthrow my semblance of order. I swear, I could spend an entire Saturday cleaning, and by Sunday morning, they’d be back – bigger, bolder, and multiplying at an alarming rate.

    I’ve tried everything: dusting sprays, microfiber cloths, even attempting to befriend a particularly fluffy specimen (it didn’t end well). But they persist, a constant reminder that in the epic battle between me and household chores, the dust bunnies might just be winning.

    The Case of the Missing Tupperware Lid

    And then there’s the mystery of the missing Tupperware lids. This, my friends, is a phenomenon that has plagued humankind since the invention of plastic containers. I’m convinced there’s a black hole somewhere in my kitchen, a vortex that sucks in Tupperware lids and spits out unmatched bottoms with reckless abandon.

    I’ve tried implementing systems – stacking, organizing by size, even labeling (yes, I know, I was desperate). But alas, the lids remain elusive, their whereabouts a mystery that may never be solved.

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry




    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Day My Socks Sparked an Existential Crisis

    There I was, knee-deep in a mountain of mismatched socks (seriously, where does the other one even go?), when it hit me: laundry is basically a metaphor for life.

    Okay, maybe not basically. But hear me out! Between separating colors, battling stubborn stains, and folding fitted sheets (the bane of my existence), laundry day provides ample time for reflection. And sometimes, those reflections go a little something like this…

    The Circle of Life (and Denim)

    Watching the washing machine churn through a cycle is strangely hypnotic. It’s like a microcosm of existence—dirty clothes go in, get tossed around in the chaotic whirlwind of life (and detergent), and emerge cleansed and renewed.

    A person struggling to fold a fitted sheet, their face a mixture of frustration and amusement