- I live for structure and predictability
- I frequently focus on "the little stuff"
- I am compulsive
One of my daily rituals (at least Sunday night through Thursday night) is that I iron my shirt for work the next day. I have done this for years. Dry cleaning is just too expensive....and after a few trips to the cleaners, buttons on my shirts start to crack. so, every night I get the ironing board out, warm up the iron, use some spray starch, and end up with a descent looking shirt.
I usually set the iron to heavy steam. Why???? Why not????? I live how steam and the starch make the front breast pocket look. Nice and crisp. Accents my pocket protector.
Since I like steam, I frequently have to put water into the iron. The iron came with a handy little spouted plastic container to use when filling the iron through its tiny hole. I ALWAYS keep the container in the same place....cabinet between stove and fridge, third shelf up, on the left.
As you can probably guess, tonight the container was not there!!! As I started a slow melt down, Mrs. WHW walked by and told me to simply use a cup, and to stop being a baby. From that point (in chronological order),
- I considered not ironing tonight and wearing a semi-permanent pressed shirt tomorrow. Couldn't do this....I always iron.
- I spent about 7.5 minutes looking for the container. No luck.
- I thought I could unplug the iron, take it over to the sink, and fill it there. Decided it was too hot.
- Started ironing without water, almost ironing over my hand twice because I continued looking around the kitchen for the container while I ironed.
- Finished the collar and both sleeves, set the iron on the back of the board, and spent another 7 minutes looking for the container in the same places I had already looked.
- Finally grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and tried to fill the iron.
- Spilt over 2/3rds of the water on to the ironing board.
- Let out a loud "arrrrgggghhh!"
- Was told to keep it down. Kids were falling asleep.
- Finished ironing the shirt, which ended up wet from the wet ironing board.
Footnote: As I sit in the dining room typing this I just noticed the container at the other end of the table. I hope a loud clap of thunder rolls up soon.....