The joy of living alone means that my laundry system both suits me and annoys no one but me.
I moved house last year and my new laundry has cupboards and a benchtop! This is where my clean sheets and towels end up when they get folded after drying. The towel/sheet system I've established means that as I put the load of sheets or towels into the washing machine, I collect the clean sheets or towels from the laundry bench to take them upstairs and deploy them. No need to make superfluous trips to put them in the linen cupboard, unless I have a rent inspection and I need to pretend that I'm a neat and tidy person 24/7.
My soiled clothes live in a Schrodinger's paradox of clean but can be worn again on the bathroom floor. Because I'm a knowledge worker who works from home full time, I will wear the same clothes several times in a week, so they get taken off and left on the bathroom floor to be worn again until the end of the week when they get gathered up to be washed. My clean clothes end up piled optimistically on my bed in the eternal hope that I will fold and put them away so I can go to sleep, but what actually happens is that they end up in a pile of clean clothes on the floor of my bedroom, only to be selected and worn as required, before they then migrate to the Shrodinger's pile on the bathroom floor.
I'm fully aware that neither of these systems would be tolerated if I were living with another adult, but this only serves as added incentive never to do that again.
Having typed all that out and revealed that as a 40 something professional I still appear to be living like a uni student, I think I now understand why Prof Boylan mistook me for a man all those years ago, despite all the evidence to the contrary 😬
The house that my Dad designed and built in the late 70s had a laundry chute. The house was two-story, and the utility cupboard at the end of the hall lined up vertically with the wall of the laundry below. So he built a chute that opened into a neat cupboard in the laundry wall. We were all well trained to dump everything to be washed into it. I don't remember the reverse procedure, but I don't remember laundry chairs, either.
My current household operates under the regimen of multiple baskets in rotation and judicious use of floordrobe space. The living space is upstairs and the laundry down, but they don't align vertically. Sigh.
I'm in the tidy department here - everything folded and put away as soon as it comes off the line. Everyone else in the family is the chaos that balances my order. (all women btw) Various receptacles are used - unused side of the bed or floor for the kids, top of the lounge or cupboard in the bedroom for my partner. There was a period there where the stack on top of the piano was almost an architectural wonder of teetering clothes. I swore there were more clothes not in cupboards and drawers than in for that one
Is there something wrong with me that the three laundry baskets in the house are sufficient and never full, as I will begin a load of washing before that happens. Definitely looks like a laundry MRI.
My wife is in permanent jihad mode against clutter. She does all the laundry and dumps my stuff on my side of the bed. I have to fold it and put it away if I want to sleep.
The joy of living alone means that my laundry system both suits me and annoys no one but me.
I moved house last year and my new laundry has cupboards and a benchtop! This is where my clean sheets and towels end up when they get folded after drying. The towel/sheet system I've established means that as I put the load of sheets or towels into the washing machine, I collect the clean sheets or towels from the laundry bench to take them upstairs and deploy them. No need to make superfluous trips to put them in the linen cupboard, unless I have a rent inspection and I need to pretend that I'm a neat and tidy person 24/7.
My soiled clothes live in a Schrodinger's paradox of clean but can be worn again on the bathroom floor. Because I'm a knowledge worker who works from home full time, I will wear the same clothes several times in a week, so they get taken off and left on the bathroom floor to be worn again until the end of the week when they get gathered up to be washed. My clean clothes end up piled optimistically on my bed in the eternal hope that I will fold and put them away so I can go to sleep, but what actually happens is that they end up in a pile of clean clothes on the floor of my bedroom, only to be selected and worn as required, before they then migrate to the Shrodinger's pile on the bathroom floor.
I'm fully aware that neither of these systems would be tolerated if I were living with another adult, but this only serves as added incentive never to do that again.
Having typed all that out and revealed that as a 40 something professional I still appear to be living like a uni student, I think I now understand why Prof Boylan mistook me for a man all those years ago, despite all the evidence to the contrary 😬
I have 3.
My daughters bed, which she moves to the floor shortly there after.
A couch in the main bedroom, which my wife then distributes evenly around the room after she gets home from work or before work if she decides.
And my clothes folded, stacked neatly on a small telescope box in the front room.
In that picture, I definitely get the futon, the ottoman, the exercise bike, and the top of the dresser. But the MRI machine?
Is it the suction tube?
Ahhhh, you're right, it's the laundry jet (TM)
The house that my Dad designed and built in the late 70s had a laundry chute. The house was two-story, and the utility cupboard at the end of the hall lined up vertically with the wall of the laundry below. So he built a chute that opened into a neat cupboard in the laundry wall. We were all well trained to dump everything to be washed into it. I don't remember the reverse procedure, but I don't remember laundry chairs, either.
My current household operates under the regimen of multiple baskets in rotation and judicious use of floordrobe space. The living space is upstairs and the laundry down, but they don't align vertically. Sigh.
I would fucking LOVE a laundry chute. Especially if I could fit inside
I'm in the tidy department here - everything folded and put away as soon as it comes off the line. Everyone else in the family is the chaos that balances my order. (all women btw) Various receptacles are used - unused side of the bed or floor for the kids, top of the lounge or cupboard in the bedroom for my partner. There was a period there where the stack on top of the piano was almost an architectural wonder of teetering clothes. I swore there were more clothes not in cupboards and drawers than in for that one
Is there something wrong with me that the three laundry baskets in the house are sufficient and never full, as I will begin a load of washing before that happens. Definitely looks like a laundry MRI.
Yes, yes there is something very wrong with you.
I’m much better trained than y’all.
My wife is in permanent jihad mode against clutter. She does all the laundry and dumps my stuff on my side of the bed. I have to fold it and put it away if I want to sleep.
I really, really want one of these:
https://laundry-jet.com.au/#learn-more-laundryjet
No idea where the clothes go, but the fact that they're gone is good enough for me.
My family subscribes to the JB method - clothes absolutely everywhere, not just chairs.
This is The Way.
Multiple “chairs” has to be the norm. I reckon we’d actually have all those spaces clear on a handful of times in a year. A spring clean if you will.
That's what inviting people over to visit is for...