Whites, lights, brights and darks.

It's not that hard a concept, is it?

I know this shouldn't bug me as much as it does, because most of the time the clothes survive the mix up fairly unscathed, but D's idea of sorting the laundry (after several lessons, I hasten to add) drives me MAD. I know, I know, I really shouldn't complain; at least he does the laundry.

Worked my shift, went to Palace to see Chloe swim in the London Sprints, then managed to stay awake for the rest of the afternoon. Even did a little housework myself.