It finally happened.
I turned my white bathroom towels pink.
Along with my white kitchen towel and all of my white hair towels.
I got permission from my neighbor to throw a load of laundry in, so I washed the huge pile of towels that's been accumulating for the past three weeks. I did think to pull out the red cloth napkins and the plaid napkins from the picnic backpack, but I thought the other towels were old enough that they wouldn't bleed.
So I filled up the bathtub with bleach and water and soaked the two big bath towels, the wash cloths and the hand towel.
And then occurred to me.
I wasn't upset.
A year ago, this situation would have made me snap. I think my stress level was that high and I was that wound up.
Case in point: When I was still with The Ex, I washed (and dried) a load of laundry, completely unaware that that my red lipstick was still in the pocket of my jeans. There was lipstick on everything. And I cracked. Literally. The Ex came upstairs to find me standing in the bedroom, looking at the pile of laundry on the bed and just sobbing and saying the F word over and over. I felt like a failure.
For six years, I was trying so hard to prove that I would be a great wife. I was cooking dinners five nights a week, I was spending all of my spare energy keeping the apartment clean, I was taking care of the bills and going grocery shopping and managing our social calendar.
So when I screwed up a load of laundry, I felt like I disappointed The Ex. And don't get me started on my feelings of inadequacy when I almost burned down the kitchen trying to fry homemade won tons.
The point is, today, in this new life, I am not the least bit concerned about these pink towels. Yes, it bugs me, but I did not cry. I did not cuss. I didn't throw anything. I figure, I'll just go back to JC Penny and buy two more towels and two more wash clothes. Big deal. The bleaching helped tremendously, but they still have a tint. And that's just fine for now. No biggie.
It's funny how these little things that happen now make me realize how unhappy I was for so long. I was so wound up that I cried at laundry. I cried at full trashcans. I cried at having too many social engagements in one week. I cried. A lot.
So what if I turn the towels pink? I'm still going to make a great wife. If anything, I'll be more comic relief than one man can stand.
And if he gets upset at pink towels, well, then maybe I don't want to be with him anyway.