Laundry Day

When it is time to do my laundry I suddenly feel like a seven year old who was just told to stop playing with every single one of her friends and go clean her room.

Of course, at 23, my “friends” are the internet and sitting.

I wait until the last possible moment to do my laundry.  More accurately, when I come down to my last few pairs of underwear.

Jeans and sweaters you can wear again.  More than once.  I have a million tank tops and other shirts, so I always have something to throw on under a sweater or “wings”, even if I look a little frumpy towards the end.

Now that it’s winter, socks also become an issue. Matching is never an issue – I’ve emulated Punky Brewster for as long as I’ve been dressing myself – it’s just a matter of quantity.  Also I do have minor sensory issues so I can’t wear one ankle sock and one sock that goes halfway up my shin.  They have to be at least the same TYPE of socks.

Girl’s gotta have some standards.

So today’s the day.  My cousin is coming to visit me tomorrow so I have to do something about my room, which looks like a bomb went off.  Like one of those nail bombs, but filled with random articles of clothing instead of shards of metal and glass.  The best way to do this, since my hamper and laundry bag are both overflowing, is to put things back where they belong.  Sadly, this means I have to wash everything.

Therefore, laundry day.


I honestly feel like throwing myself on the floor kicking and screaming and flailing around until someone does it for me.  Sadly, throwing this tantrum would only result in my roommate calling the white coats in to get me and my laundry would still not be done.

I have friends in the city who have to walk a few blocks to get to their Laundromat.  Mine is literally next door. Like, technically part of the same building, though separate from the apartments.  I have to go down three flights of stairs, outside, and approximately 20 steps.

I don’t know what it is about doing the laundry that makes me want to rip my hair out.  Once I actually get my stuff in the washing machine, it’s pretty simple.  The most annoying part is putting the clean clothes away (especially because these dryers are never successful at their ONE task…drying clothes) but even that doesn’t ever end up being that bad.

But still, at this moment, before I have started the process of doing my laundry, I can think of a million things I would rather do right now than my laundry.

I’ll rattle off the first 10 that come to mind:

  1. Chew off my left hand.
  2. Drink an entire carton of sour milk.
  3. Jump headfirst into a pit of hypodermic needles.
  4. Watch the entire Twilight series in 3D.
  5. Read One Fifth Avenue by Candice Busnell.
  6. Make out with Christopher Walken
  7. Pour boiling hot water into my eyeballs.
  8. Let someone lick my toes.
  9. Get my wisdom teeth removed without anesthesia.
  10. Have paper cuts between every single one of my fingers.

And that, dear friends, is how much I do not want to be doing my laundry right now.

~ by Valerie Anne on 12/10/2010.

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