After I ironed and tenderly, hung up the last shirt last night; I could have done a victory dance to the majestic and moving music of Rocky. If you don't understand all that I'm talking about--check it out here.
I know in the scheme of difficulty in peoples lives, my pile of laundry doesn't even compare. But that pile of laundry (that didn't stay the same pile all this time, either) represented more than just the actual clean clothes sitting there, waiting to be folded. Oh, it was so much more.
So, that is why I feel so good. I overcame (even though I will do more laundry today and that job seems to never end), I didn't give up (is not that, the important part) and I can see the light (it's not all about the laundry even though another pile is likely to take its place). For now, let me bask in the glory (Rocky, eat your heart out).