Growing up, I never really saw the applicability of the Greek Myths.Sure, I understood that it wasn’t good to be vain–look at the way Narcissus ended up — but I didn’t understand what Sisyphus had to do with anything.Until I became him.

You remember Sisyphus — sure you do.He’s the king who was condemned to pushing that huge boulder up to the top of the mountain each day, only to watch it come crashing down each night.Okay, so I don’t have a boulder.As far as I know, I have no royal lineage.And I’m not changing my name.But trust me, I’m Sisyphus.

I have laundry — lots of it.Mountains of it, one might say.There’s something about the summer that makes laundry take on a whole new dimension.I don’t know whether it’s the swim suits, the towels, the fact that we’re outside more, but the laundry in the summer is simply not the same as the laundry in the winter.Add some overnight camp to the mix and you’ve got yourself a new full time job.

The day my kids returned from overnight camp, I had nine load of laundry. Nine. I stayed up until the wee hours of the night getting it finished. I put it all away, put the duffles in the basement, brushed my teeth, got wearily into bed, and patted myself on the back. Go me!

And guess what?  When I awoke, you’ll never believe what was in the hamper.Yep, more laundry.See, I’m Sisyphus.The good news is that I don’t need to worry about becoming Narcissus — the only reflection I’m seeing these days is in the window of my dryer.