There's nothing worse than having a beautiful, breezy 72° greet you when you step outside...to walk to the laundry room. Instead of laying by the pool or heading to the beach with the doggy, I have to face the fact that today is Sunday.
Sunday. Laundry day.
Today, I am lucky (I suppose). Today is only towel laundry, and laundry that I have left over from our Vegas vacation last weekend (everything comes back smelling like smoke...everything). Fortunately, there were enough washers and dryers for me to successfully start and finish all three loads at once. Yet, as per usual, I had to tack on an extra 40 minutes of waiting after my 25 minute wash cycle and ~before~ my 45 minute dry cycle (which may or may not have to be extended because our dryers are cheap and awful) because someone had just put their stuff in the dryer. On top of that, one of the dryers didn't get one load of towels dry, so I had to spend another $1.25 and 45 minutes waiting. Total laundry time: Just over 3hrs. Living in an apartment complex, laundry turns into an all-day affair.
Starting the laundry is Step 1. I find it easiest to throw everything into my big blue ikea bag and run down to the laundry room. Man-up, don't think about it...just like ripping off a bandaid. Most of the time, this all-at-once system works. Occasionally, however, I get side-tracked by an overwhelming urge to lay around...wasting time, pretending to be productive...maybe I'll sort the laundry by colors! Oh! look - the cat's doing something funny - I should grab my camera! These dishes need to be rinsed again...(putting off one loathed chore by performing another...lowest of low).
Step 2 is trying to remember to change the laundry over on time. This time, since I had to wait an extra 40 minutes, remembering to switch the laundry over wasn't as difficult because I could time it with a rerun episode of Criminal Minds (the one with the blind kid whose mother was murdered). Normally, this is a very difficult step. Not only does it require timing, but also a second exertion of effort to walk down to the laundry room to merely switch over the laundry (not gratifying, no reward!), moving the heavy, wet, soggy laundry across the hot and poorly ventilated room into the dryers, only to hurry up and wait again.
Step 3. Verification. Are the clothes completely dry? Am I finally done with laundry day? This can be the most gratifying or frustrating time of laundry day. Meander back down to the laundry room, see the giant 0 MINS REMAIN on the dryer - deep inhale and slowly open the door. The first gush of warm dry air almost makes the whole ordeal seem worth it. Today, however, it was not worth it. Towel load # 2 was still wet. Not damp, not "maybe i'll just dump these un-dry clothes all over the bed and let it ~air-dry~" damp, but wet. Not soaked, the dryer still did some work...but wet. Forced restart. -45 minutes to my life score.
So, as I sit and wait and pass the time on my computer while the laundry runs (because everyone knows you're not allowed to do ANYTHING while the laundry is running), I look longingly outside as the sun beats down at the pool. Some sort of sick punishment for procrastinating? The children splashing and screaming offer me some comfort...today I happen to be in a "mood" and want nothing to do with loud, obnoxious children.
I suppose I could've sat by the pool while waiting for the clothes to dry...but then laundry day would've taken a full 8 hrs instead of just over 3 - I guarantee I would've lost track of time, been forced to restart laundry multiple times, or worse, have had my laundry removed from the machines by the over-eager annoying laundry woman. You know the one...she has 5 loads of laundry to do, all at once, and must wait in the laundry room while the clothes are running. She'll sit and read a book, or sometimes I even catch her staring off into the distance. And god forbid you are 2 minutes late getting to your laundry, because she's there when the timer clicks to 0, pulling your clothes out of the washer or dryer and setting them on top of the machine - usurping your place in the hierarchy of laundry day. You may have been there first, but if you dilly-dally, you will be overthrown. Her antics are infuriating, but effective - I definitely pay more attention to the clock (though, not enough to set a timer).
It's not necessarily the fact that she steals your machine or makes your laundry day last longer that angers me most, either...to me, it's the personal violation that I feel when I realize she's probably touched my freshly cleaned undies or seen the size of my jeans. Forced intimacy. Unnerving. Don't put your dirt-bag hands all over my laundry!
Step 4. Grand Finale. Folding. Putting away of all the things. For now, this step can wait. Indefinitely. -k.
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