Why I was wearing pajama pants on Thursday

January 28, 2011 § 2 Comments

Faux-dulthood has a lot of responsibilities. Or at least more responsibilities than adolescence, and whining about them is tolerated way less.

Doing laundry, for example. Even if you sink-wash your delicates in store-brand shampoo* and re-wear the same pair of reindeer-print socks for a week, eventually you will just have to suck it up and get to the washing. I managed to avoid this situation until this week, which, being almost a month into the term, is pretty impressive. Or gross. Despite much mental complaining about what a bitch it would be to actually get out and wash my clothes, I decided I would be game and determined and out of clean underwear and I was certainly not going to let a little snowstorm stop me. I had one thought, and it was Get Thee To A Laundromat.

So, like an ersatz Santa Claus, I bundled my reeking clothing into a backpack-like bag, hefted it over my shoulder, and proceeded to lumber down the block that separates my hovel from the local lavanderia. The lady by the change machine was also super-suspicious of me.

Her: Are you getting change?
Me: Yes.
Her: Are you doing laundry?
Me (confused, because why the hell else would I be here with a bag of clothes): Yes?
Her: Are you doing laundry here?
Me (officially not following her): Yeeeees.

It was like a thousand degrees inside, so the effort of shoving all my clothes and dishtowels and the scrap of terrycloth I’ve been using as a bathmat into a metal cave left me flushed and flustered, and I had no idea which compartment to put my dye-free detergent in. Also: since when does laundry cost $3.50?!

But. The ending of this incredibly long-winded story of anguish is that doing something as trivial (though necessary) as laundry can actually make a huge difference in one’s mental state. Like, hell yeah I can do laundry. I figured that shit out. Clean clothes! Like a functioning member of society!

I, for one, feel much better as a result. Though that could just be the clean underwear.

*Hahahaha, who does that?! No one! Definitely not me!


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