Pondering Washes

I didn’t mean to end up in the laundry basket.

It started with a nap. (As most profound journeys do.)
I was tired. The basket was warm. The towel pile looked inviting. Next thing I knew, I was sandwiched between a hoodie and a mismatched sock, staring at the ceiling and reflecting on life.

The Basket is a Place of Truth

You can’t pretend to be important in the laundry basket.
No one’s performing. No one’s leading a meeting. It’s just you, your thoughts, and someone’s slightly embarrassing pajama pants.

And honestly? That’s freeing.

In the basket, I realized I carry a lot—emotionally, and also in snacks. But maybe I don’t need to be perfectly folded. Maybe I’m more of a… soft roll with a wrinkle of mystery.

Sock Pairs Are Rare, and That’s Okay

I found a lone sock under my chin. I don’t know whose it was. It didn’t match anything else.

But it still mattered.
It still existed.
It still smelled faintly of cinnamon, and I respected that.

Sometimes we feel like unmatched socks in a world full of tidy drawers. But maybe being a little lost is just part of the cycle. We’ll find our match—or make peace with being cozy solo.

When the Dryer Rumbles, Hold On Tight

Eventually, Pandy came looking for me. “You’ve been in here for an hour,” he said gently.

“I’ve been thinking about identity and static cling,” I replied.

He nodded. He’s used to this.

Final Spin

So here’s what I learned in the basket:

1. Stillness is underrated.

2. You’re not just part of the pile—you are the pile, and that’s beautiful.

3. Warm towels can heal the soul.

4. Every plushie deserves a gentle cycle.
   
   

I’m not saying you need to crawl into a laundry basket today.
But if you do?
Bring a snack. And be ready to learn a little about yourself.

Folded with care,
Doggie 🐶🧺

P.S. Pandy did a full load while I was in there. I am now mildly lavender-scented. I accept this.