oh internet…

I’m leaving tomorrow, and if I don’t have you in Mexico, internet, I have to say…I really won’t miss you at all. You either, PunkBerry. I am SO looking forward to four whole days away from everything. Well, everything but Whitney, but she doesn’t count. No phone, no email, no texts, no work, no driving (oh halleluja, that one just hit me, NO DRIVING!!!), no work clothes, no night classes, no morning classes, no lesson planning, no boxes, no packing, no unpacking, no organizing, no assembling, no disassembling, no clutter, no cockroaches, no life as I know it. Oh my gosh, “Baby, Baby” could be playing right now, and I wouldn’t even care.

Sigh. Hurry up, tomorrow!!

Until it gets here, though, allow me to regale you with the tale…of our laundry room.

As you know, the people who lived in our house before us were…dirty. And that is putting it nicely. There are parts of our house that I still don’t feel comfortable touching, and after we get back from Cancun, I might thrown scalding water on everything a few times, but I’m not going to think about that now. We did a LOT of cleaning before we moved in, and we made sure to paint everything we could (although the bathrooms still need doing) so as to cover up anything disgusting on the walls. We scrubbed and mopped and painted and threw out, and the one spot we hadn’t really touched until Sunday was the laundry room. We had just been putting stuff in there that we meant to throw out.

But when we finally got the washer and dryer set up for use, Lauren and I decided we should give the place a once-over. Here is what we found:

• Dryer lint. A big pile of dryer lint. I don’t know why on earth anyone would keep the dryer lint, but these people had done just that. It was all piled up on top of a shelf above the dryer. Who knows?
• All kinds of random 1980’s-looking car products. You know, wax and such.
• A baseball cap with a bird’s nest inside, complete with eggs. Yeah, just let that sink in for a moment. It was all folded up and stuffed into this little hanging shelf-a-ma-jigger. And at first, I just thought it was a hat full of leaves and pine straw, but then we took it down and looked inside, and sure enough, there were like four little birdie eggs. No doubt, any living creatures contained therein had been murdered in their removal from their mother’s warmth and protection, and even though they’re skittery little animals with sharp faces, that’s still sad and very, VERY bizarre.
• One “Rough Rider” condom still in its dusty wrapper. COME ON!! I mean really. WHY MUST IT BE IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM?! That just doesn’t make sense. And it reinforces my desire to not touch anything I haven’t cleaned myself with boiling bleach.

On the upside, when I threw/dropped it like a hot potato into the trash bag, wiping my hands, jumping around and screaming, “EWW EWW EW EW EWWWW!!!” Lauren knew that the chastity belt Whitney’s been welding for me would not be necessary. So we can finally take the welding mask off of Dooley. He’ll like that.

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