ode to laundry

Laundry can take on a life of its own. It makes me think of the children's story about the porridge pot that wouldn't stop. It just kept on making porridge until it spilled out of the pot and onto the floor and across the kitchen and out of the door........ It seems strange that laundry poses such a risk because it is just so simple to do; An armload of lights or darks born swiftly down the stairs and into the yawning maw of the washer. A splash of soap engineered to remove every single thing but color, a musical assortment of buttons pushed, and the laundry is underway. I am summoned a short while later by my clever machine to toss almost dry items into the dryer which senses intuitively whether to dry very dry, or just half heartedly.
Why then do I avert my gaze from my laundry hamper as it swells and spills?
I think procrastination is worth the wonderful feeling of accomplishment I bask in when the laundry pile is reduced to neat little stacks fresh and clean; A feeling of being in control and on top of things; Of efficiency and dignity; Of marching in step with housewives of every era, starched and bright. Well, maybe that's going to far but I do know that order leads on to order, neatness to neatness, creativity to creativity. There is a momentum that is irresistible when finally set in motion. Tidy here and you will want to tidy there. Organize here and you will desire organization there. Create here and your mind will be flooded with even more creativity.
Laundry is just one small step towards a better life. Lead me to the hamper!!!