1. Wait ten days until the basket is overflowing and you’re down to wearing colors that didn’t look good on you in high school.
2. Procrastinate a few more days. (The same way you waited too long to leave the marriage.)
3. Tip out contents of basket on the floor, swearing loudly, preferably within the earshot of small children.
4. Swear some more because regardless your kids will eventually blame you for everything that’s wrong with their lives, you may as well give them more ammunition.
5. Cry. Again. Might be about the dead marriage, or the smell of the laundry is making your eyes water.
6. Approach washing machine without having a panic attack.
7. Spend time that could be more valuably spent on almost any other activity, including punching self in face, figuring out just how much laundry is the right amount.
8. Congratulate self on not over-stuffing the machine unlike certain people you may at one time have been married to.
9. Spend more time obsessing about whether that one new bright green shirt will make everything else green, and how you will pull off your new all green wardrobe with élan.
10. Add liquid detergent (powder is deviant) and turn on machine.
11. Try not to second-guess the setting. The temperature of the water does not, in a larger sense, matter. It will be okay. Your heart will go on.
12. Try to remember you had laundry in the machine and take it out before the other bad smells happen.
13. Put stuff in dryer. This part is fun! Other than the heavy, wet, formerly clean laundry you just dropped on the floor on the way to the dryer.
14. Cry again. Consider going back on anti-depressants.
15. Fold laundry with mixture of self-righteousness, satisfaction and existential crisis.