The Wrinkled Shirt

Yes, that's a photo of an unironed shirt.  It belongs to Beloved. He wore it to a wedding in early September.  After being washed the following week, it hung in our closet for the three weeks, unironed, except for four days when I hung it on the doorknob of the hallway closet door.  Why did it hang in the hallway? Because I thought if I saw it in an unusual place, I would get my act together and iron the darn thing.  Didn't work.  Back to the closet it went.

The bigger question is why did the shirt remain unironed for so long? Ironing a shirt is a simple task, right?  Why, I kept wondering, is it taking me so long to iron this one shirt?

Here's where my wonderment led me:

• Ironing the shirt was a low priority task.  There were no upcoming events that would require a classic white shirt, well-pressed. 
• Getting to the act of ironing the shirt was complicated and was actually going to take more time than the task. I had to:
• Get out the iron and ironing board
• Get the water (to steam the wrinkles)
• Wait for the iron to heat up
• Put it all away
• I don't get much pleasure out of ironing shirts.  I don't mind it, but given options, there are other tasks I would choose first. 
• Beloved is extremely appreciative when I iron his shirts. It's an easy way (or so I thought) to show him love.

This led me to pondering the many other tasks in my life that don't get completed on schedule (or what I think is "on schedule").  Sometimes it is because they are low priority, like the shirt - and that's fine.  The complicated issue stalls me frequently.  Low satisfaction I can get over, particularly if the actual task doesn't take much time, isn't difficult OR doesn't have an emotional component (as in Mom always made me dust the dining room chairs, so I'm never going to dust the dining room chairs).

Here's to better understanding of why simple tasks become so complicated.

Pay attention to this!