Laundry Cage Match: 10 Socks Go In; Only 9 Emerge.

It’s a Saturday night.  I’m sure all the cool kids are out…doing what cool kids do. What DO cool kids do these days?  Probably involves locally-sourced, ethically-created artisan cocktails.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  However, I’m doing laundry.  It was that or taxes.  Modern saying:  nothing is certain, but laundry and taxes.  And in particular circles: brunch.  To be more specific:  bacon.  In my life, nothing is more certain than bacon.  And alcohol.  Sometimes at the same time.  Count on it.

I’m not sure how long this will last, but I’ve decided to try blogging.  I know.  I did the requisite eye-roll/bored-sigh combo for you (new sport for the 2016 Olympics; approval pending).  Nothing amps the naval-gazing to 11 like a blog post.  I hear you my readers.  All none of you.  Did I mention this was a new thing?

Anyway, I’m hoping to just occasionally pop on here with words of extreme warning about what not to do for a successful, tidy life.  Example:  don’t assume that red towels stop bleeding into your wash; EVER.  Learn from my failings (which should be the subtitle to this blog).  Prepare to be amazed!  Okay, not really.  Prepare to laugh at me.  A lot.  It’ll be a thing.  You’ll be able to tell everyone you were among the first. Thanks for reading!