this is not

This is not a photo of me at 10:00 last night, wearing pajama pants and an XL grey sweatshirt, with hair still damp from my shower, sitting on the floor of our bedroom, surrounded by meticulously-sorted piles of laundry, with my my torso, arms and head leaned over and curled up into a square [empty] laundry basket, because I was so tired it actually felt comfortable. That is not what this is a photo of. But it might have been, if Keith was a little sneakier with the camera phone.


















And for anyone who thinks my t-shirt drawer is over-organized, you might want to look into the "filing" method of storing folded t-shirts. I can see all of my shirts at one time instead of digging through a drawer and there's no more accidentally unfolding shirts because you pulled out one from the middle of the stack. You can even take it to the next level and put newly laundered shirts at the front of the drawer so that you know that the ones you haven't worn in a while are in the back. Not that I do that or anything...