I think I had a psychological breakthrough.
Yesterday, I had a most startling realization, startling mostly because of how ridiculously obvious it is. Are you ready? Here goes it:
I CAN DO MY LAUNDRY ON ANY DAY OF THE WEEK.
You see, for such a long time, with very short periods of exception, I’ve been washing my clothes in some place outside of my home (a laundromat, Whitney’s Washeteria, etc.), and in order to do this, I’ve needed to have several hours available to go and sit with my clothes until they were finished lest they be stolen, derided or maimed. And the only time one generally has several hours available for sitting with laundry is on the weekend.
Now, those of you who are Whitney, or have heard her tell either the story of the Red Lobster plates or the story of the Iron Chef rice, or who just know me very well, know that once I get it in my head that something needs to be done in a certain way, I literally cannot figure out another way to do that thing. I have some sort of mental block.
So, having done laundry on the weekends for so long, it has become ingrained in me that the weekends are just the time when laundry is done. It seriously (and I am not making this up) had never occurred to me before yesterday afternoon that laundry might be done on some other day.
Friends, I feel set free. Just yesterday morning, I was taking inventory of my clean underwear, and I took ten seconds out of my harried getting-ready process to make sure I had enough underwear to get me through to the weekend. But here’s the thing: We have a washer/dryer IN OUR APARTMENT. So you know what? I’m put my clothes in the washer right that instant. On a Tuesday. Then I left for a while, and when I came back, I switched them over to the dryer and put in a new load. Then I went to bed. That second load still isn’t finished. I’ve been doing all sorts of other things rather than babysitting my laundry.
Sigh. I’m a new woman!!
test Filed under fashion, not normal, friends |3 Responses to “I think I had a psychological breakthrough.”
Leave a Reply
I hate you.
You love me, and you know it full well. What you hate is having to babysit your laundry.
Was there danger of your laundry being stolen, derided or maimed at my Washeteria? Did I threaten your clothes? I mean, if anyone should have been worried, it would have been me, right? I mean, who burned and/or peed on all of whose belongings here?