Mood: All ironed out. [see tired]

I've been doing some heavy ironing these past few days. Moving mountains of laundry from my room. Finally, after 3 continuous days of chain ironing, the mountain has been reduced to a heap of 4 pieces of clothing that needs mending first. (apparently, their owners have an addiction to doing the splits.) Some might ask, 'Why did you take so long to do the ironing?', well, the answer is simple. Coming from a family of 6 adults who thinks that ironing just the piece they want to wear for that day, is sufficient to erase any sight of the growing mountain of laundry at the corner of the room. So for the last 2 months, I've been living with blind, ignorant, lazy adults.

Since the folding and the sorting and the ironing has been done, I have this feeling of achievement. I really feel happy and calm. I have never thought that ironing clothes can be so therapeutic. Spraying starch 15cm from the piece of crumpled clothing, ironing the creases out and watching it end up smooth and crisp. After the 30th shirt, it kinda gets addictive, this thing called starch ironing. You'll feel like grabbing anything, jus to see it end up smoothed out and crisp. Methaphorically speaking, I wish I can iron out my problems as easy as this..

Being sensitive is me,
being compassionate is me,
being motherly is me,
being responsible is me.

Why can't you understand,
and you tried to change me,
why can't you just listen,
and make me feel better?

No more whining,
no more complaints,
no more sob-story,
I'll keep it in me.

Like old times,
before I met you,
was simpler then,
'cos no one cares.

~Liyana~