Coziness is Next to Cleanliness

I mentioned a few weeks ago that, in my humble opinion, a key ingredient for a cozy weekend is a supply of laundry detergent. It seemed random then and I doubt it seems any less random now, but for some reason, things seem cozier when they are in their place and there is something cozy to me about doing laundry and restoring order to my small, cracker box sized abode.

I think I feel strongly about the laundry component because for about four or five years, when I was living in Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia, I had to use a communal laundry room. That meant I had to save up quarters like I did when I lived in the college dorm, load up my duds and sheets, and go outside and around back, then down a flight of creepy stairs to a sinister basement which reeked of mildew. I had to juggle my laundry, quarters, detergent, and keys all the while holding my breath and hoping that there was an available machine and not Jack the Ripper waiting to mug me and take my stash of quarters. For drying the clothes, rinse and repeat. It was an inconvenient step in any peace I was trying to create in my apartment.

When I moved back to Texas I vowed never, EVER to be without a washer and dryer in my actual domicile. I found an apartment which came with a brand, spanking new set; full sized to boot and it's made a world of difference. It's actually sort of liberating. I do laundry when I want to, not when the other residents of the ant farm dictate. I don't have to make sure to save up countless quarters and large loads of menacing, dirty clothes and then transport them to another location. Wanna wash just a napkin and a couple of dish towels? Go ahead. Toss 'em in. Though not energy efficient, it's your call and your's alone. Don't worry about setting an egg timer so you're notified when to go rescue your skivvies before some unknown neighbor has time to rummage through them and claim the machine for himself.

I'm a fairly Type A person. I like everything in its place. I alphabetize my spices. Okay, maybe Type A is an understatement, but you get the gist. Even for the most organized and Type A person, life can creep up and certain things fall by the way side. This has happened to me over the past few weeks and finally, yesterday, I couldn't take it any more. So, I threw it into high power cleaning mode, complete with loads of laundry.

Little by little, as each room was returned to its original state, I felt cozy working it's way back into my space. I tend to light candles as I clean so that the place is not overpowered by Lysol, Scrubbing Bubbles, and Clorox. You can still catch a whiff of the cleaning products, but it's not overbearing. The counters glisten, the clutter is removed, the vacuum cleaner tracks on the carpet are vivid, and the space begins to feel like home again.

Aside from the scents wafting through the apartment and the feeling of clarity, I relish a freshly made bed complete with clean sheets and duvet just out of the dryer. I guess even when things aren't going completely as I'd like and it all seems a bit out of my control, a freshly made bed gives me a bit of a sense of normalcy; as if to say, maybe I can't get all of my ducks in a row right now, but at least I can make my bed.

After I'd finished cleaning my apartment, I went out to dinner. There is a noticeable difference of returning to a newly organized and cleaned apartment. Placing the key in the door and walking in gives me the feeling of familiarity that comes with being home combined with a refreshed sense of slowing getting back on top of my game.