Laundry Fuckery

I like doing laundry. I like cleaning up. Even washing the dishes. Not because this kind of thing is FUN in itself, but because of the cool results. Who doesn't like to sit in a perfectly Zen living room or an uncluttered bedroom? Chores need to be done anyway, so I might as well have a positive outlook on them right?

So far, the only laundry I did was mine. So I never got scared I might ruin anything, they were mine anyway, and really, what could go wrong? Anyone could do it.
So I slowly became more relaxed around washing-machines and soap and everything related. Now that BF can be considered "semi-moved-in", I do his laundry with mine, and a few days ago I still wasn't too nervous, I was a Laundry-room goddess, no stain could resist.

I even got so bold that I candidly decided to put some bleach in the whites, to make them bright and all, like in those commercials. My white cami did turn out beautiful and white.
But I still don't know what went wrong....three of BF's shirts came out with pale ti-die patterns all over them. Damn it! And one of them was also my favorite shirt of his.

It's not so horrible, I'll find him new ones, but it's just frustrating, now I'll be scared of bleach...even more then I already am.