laundry. Ack.

Living alone, it's so funny to say I'm behind on the laundry. Explaining while blogging will make me feel better about it. I just know it.  
Note to self: do not eat cheese puffs while trying to type.
Osteoarthritis has reared its ugly head the past few weeks. When this happens, it is really painful to go up and down the basement steps.  And yes, the laundry is downstairs. The pain is not just in the knees.  The feet, the ankles, the arms, wrists and HANDS!  ACK! And my poor, sick thumb.
Biting the bullet with the help of Advil gel caps, and going down the stairs backwards has helped.  I know, it sounds crazy and weird.  Using the laundry hamper as a cane/walker is very helpful when going down backwards.  And it is not nearly as painful. I did this several times the past few weeks to launder the essentials.
Needless to say at this point, there was a pile of laundry.  Yes, its only me.  And HoneyMarie.  And Freddy.  They have their sheets on their beds.  And the couch cover. And their towels from wiping them down after every outdoor visit and at night they love their wet cloth wipe down.

So today was deemed laundry day.  Already hobbling around this morning it was obviously going to be a challenge.  And it has been.  You see, when I hobble downstairs to put the clothes in the washer, about 99% of the time it walks itself unplugged and an extra trip is added to the mix.  Sometimes a sit down in the creepy basement to wait for the cycle to finish is a must.  But most of the time, its another trip to scoot the washer back to its place (ouch), try to get the shim in place (ouch) and back up the steps. Ouch.  And yes, I do know how to load the washer after 50 years.  Never was this ever been a problem, with this machine, in St Louis.  Maybe the washer is just getting too old at 10 years, but it still washing the clothes quite well. 
The ugly recliner will be much appreciated this evening while viewing Fear the Walking Dead and drinking a nice cup of hot tea.  
It can always be worse.