Dirty Laundry

Sometimes I wash our dirty clothes, well... not really, I just shove them in the washing machine and push a button.... well, most of the time... You see, I got in a terrible disagreement with a washing machine the other night. Oh, what a tiff we had.

You see, there isn't a washing machine in our apartment. When I discovered there was no washing machine I was immediately thrilled. Great. Naturally, the only way to get your clothes clean if you don't have a washing machine to use is to do it by hand. Literally. Now, some of you may do your laundry by hand all of the time and for that I applaud you, however, I am spoiled rotten. I do not. I have a pretty white washer and dryer. It makes the task of even getting laundry started a whole lot easier. When I find out I'm going to have to laundry by hand I think, this is great, I already know that it takes me to do one whole load of laundry when I'm at home. Two minutes to shove the clothes in the washing machine. One minute to push the start button. A second to close the door and walk away. Then I let it go until it beeps at me, at which point I try to go into the laundry room and stick the wet clothes in the dryer. Sometimes this works. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I hear the beep but I can't get to it right away, you know, I'm too busy sitting watching the Food Network or something and if I walk away for a second I will miss a vital ingredient and then I won't be able to fix the fancy feast they are making on tv. Not that I would fix it anyway... it costs way too much money to go buy all of those ingredients to only use one time. Nope. But still, I have to sit and watch as they mix all the ingredients together so it makes me feel like I am a good little wife and make new exciting foods for diner. Even though I don't.

So the clothes sit. Until I suddenly jump up and say, "O!" because I remember hearing the buzzer bing about an hour ago, and scurry off to change out the laundry. At which point I merely shove in another load, push the start button and hurry off to finish seeing how my meal is being prepared. After the buzzer goes off a few more times, I make the switches again, dump some dry clothes in a laundry basket and push it along the floor to the couch, because I am entirely too lazy to actually pick up the basket and carry it five whole steps. Actually I kind of make it like a race in my head, I push the basket because I think that way I will actually get to the couch quicker. I don't know which way is fastest yet. Maybe I should time it.

Anyway. Once the dry laundry is sitting in a heap by my couch I go about my business of washing dishes, fixing dinner, doing homework, sleeping, eating. You know, the important things in life. I must walk by the pile of clothes at least a million times before I realize that I had to dig through the laundry basket this morning just to find something clean to wear... ya. I need to fold those clothes. So, I pick up the basket, take one step and drop it on the floor, right smack in front of the tv. I mean, you have to do something while you fold the clothes, right? Of course! So I fold, and lay out the ones that are in desparte need of ironing. Even though I'm not going to iron them right now. That's just being an over acheiver. Instead, I throw it on top of the neatly folded clothes that I have placed neatly in the basket. The hubs has a basket with full of his clothes, and so do I. I don't like to share launry basket space. Actually, I think it's just makes it easier to put the clothes away if they are each in their own basket. I think if I ever have to do laundry for more people other than the hubs and me, they would each get their own basket too. Though... I might make them fold their own clothes! Ha! Yes. Yes, I would.

So, the clothes, are clean. The clothes are folded. The clothes are sitting in a laundry basket ready to be taken upstairs to be put away.

But the timer goes of for dinner, so I can't take them up right now. I'm busy you know. We eat dinner, I clean up from dinner, we watch our nightly show. And sleep. Who needs to put clothes away? They are folded after all. A few more weeks pass by and the clothes sit there. Ready and waiting to be put in their home. But do I do it?! No! Of course not! Finally, after a year of seeing the clothes sitting on the living room floor waiting to be put away, I lug the baskets upstairs. I have tried to take all three baskets at the same time before. It's not something I recommend trying. No. You might, just might, fall backwards as you are walking up the stairs and hit your head or something. Just saying. The baskets have to be carried one at a time. O, the things I do for my clothes.

Sadly, a lot of times, even after the clothes baskets with the neatly folded clothes make it upstairs to the bedroom to be put away. They aren't. Nope. They sit some more. Good gracious! Just go in the drawer! I tell them this. Every day. They don't listen. Nope. It's really actually quite unfortuante. If they listened and put them selves away my house would be much tidyer. It's true. But they don't. So it's not. … if only. Finally, finally, after another month passes by I work up the courage to conquer the neatly folded laundry. And I put it away. It takes 11 minutes. Whew. Glad that's over!

Unfortunately, I catch a glmps of the mountian of laundry that has collected since I last washed the clothes (which I think was about two years ago if I remember correctly). And the process starts all over again.

I'm sure you can imagine just as well as I by now, the nightmare I was having about laundry. If it normally takes me two years to do a few loads of laundry- with a washing machine and dryer, how long is it going to take me wash all of our clothes by hand?! A whole decade?! Ah! I hope not. But I'm not one to kid around. I know the truth. I have braced myself to dedicae the next ten years of my life to wash one load of laundry, dry it, fold it, and put it away. That's not even counting the ironing. If I included that, it would probably take me ten more years... twenty years to do one smelly load of laundry?! Are you kidding me?! Ah! This will be the worst summer of my life. I just want a washing machine.

“Hey look!” says the hubs, “They have little laundry rooms, around the apartments. One's really close to ours! That's great huh?” he's beaming.

“O. Ya. That is great!” I don't tell him my secret fear of it taking me twenty years to do one load of laundry. “I really am relieved to hear they have one here. It will save me twenty years.”

“What? Twenty years?” he looks at me quizzically.

“Nevermind. It's not important.”

A few days later we are out of clean clothes and it is time to do laundry. I stuff a suitcase full and pull it downstairs to the laundry room. I'm very pleased that I remembered my bag of quarters. I shouldn't be though. Wanna know why? The machine doesn't like quarters. No. It doesn't even accept one. Or a penny for that matter. Nope. Well... what the heck am I supposed to do if the washing machine doesn't eat my quarters?!

O. Right. There's a card. I need a card. A laundry card to be exact. There is no laundry card machine around me. Well... I lug the 20 pound suitcase back upstairs to our apartment. Rip open the door and slam it behind me. When I plop on the couch defeated like, the hubs says to me, “What's wrong?”

“The machine won't eat my quarters. I'm sure it'll eat a sock or two, but not my quarters. Nope.”

“How are you supposed to get pay for it?”

“I donno” I mumble.

The hubs encourages me to get up, we'll take a walk and find out how to master the machine. He's so swell. We walk over to the office to see if there is someone we can ask about the machine. There's not. We walk around the lobby and the hubby discovers a magic laundry card machine! I am sooo glad he found that! Right. I pull out out a money card, and swipe it to get my laundry card. It says “$5 PRESS OK” ok. I press “OK” out pops a little laundry card. Yes. I can finally do laundry. I know I might sound a little excited, and well, I guess I am... just a little bit. But not really. We treck back over to the apartment. Once again I set out with my 50 pound bag of laundry and haul it down the stairs, arcoss the rocks, and up the steps into th laundry room. I stick my card in the little card slot, push the “Colors” button and … nothing happens. O. Wait. Something does happen. The washing machine says “bad card” to me. What?!?!?! Are you kidding me?! I try again. Same thing happens. I try a different machine. Same thing happens. This is just great. Super. I just put $5 on my laundry card and it's not even working?! Oooo.... I am not a happy person. I try the third and last machine in the room. “bad card” it blinks at me like I'm an idiot.

Defeated I throw the suitcase up the stairs and stomp up after it. I storm in the door and shout, “It doesn't even work! It said it's a bad card?! What the crap?! Are you kidding me?! I JUST put 5 whole dollars on it! You would think that would wash my clothes!” See, told you I wasn't happy.

“Well, maybe it's just a bad card. Let's get a new one and try that.” The hubs sweetly suggests.

“This is stupid.” I mumble in response.

Once again I find my self walking beside the hubs to get a new card. Go through the whole process, again. We walk out with another $5 laundry card. I march up the stairs, yank the suitcase behind me and march down the staris. Again. Down in the laundry room, again, I push the new laundry card in the slot, push the “colors” button, and wait, again.

“bad card” the machine blinks at me, again. Good. Gravy. I want to strangle the stupid machine! I decide it's a faulty washer. I try the other two (again). When they tell me it's a bad card too, I walk over to another laundry room in the apartment complex. All three of those machines tell me the exact same thing, "bad card". well poop.

I storm across the parking lot dragging my 500 pound suitcase behind me. I mean, really! All I wanted to do was wash my clothes! I get upstairs and sit and fume for a little while.

After counting to ten I reach for my phone and call the number for the laundry card company. I explain my situation to the lady on the other end of the line. I tell her I bought the card for five dollars and it didn't work and I tried all the machines, and I bought a second card and that one didn't work either. And could she please help me.

Yes. Of course. She can. She proceeds to tell me that while I did buy a card, that's it. I bought a card. Unlike what I had thought (that I had bought a card and had $5 on the card to use for my laundry) I in fact had Zero dollars on the card.

The CARD cost $5?! Are you kidding me? Then I went and bought another one just like it when mine was perfectly fine in to begin with. There goes $5 down the drain. I love throwing my money away. Not. I ask her if I can get it back. Nope she says. Well, she says maybe, I might, but I have to call back during regular office hours.

I can't believe the card cost a whole flipping $5! Then I went and bought another one! O. Good. Gravy. I fume out the door across the parking lot, again, and yet again, swipe my money card so I can put money on my laundry card. You would think they would have a sign above the machine telling you all about how to work it and such. They don't. How thoughtful of them.

For the twenty-ith time I climb the stairs and get the suitcase stuffed full of dirty clothes. I am so incredibly buff by now since I have carried the 900 pound suitcase around with me all night that I just toss it up on my head and balance it all the way to the laundry room. I set it down, pull out the laundry card, and hold my breath. I stick it in the little machine and PRAY that it takes it and doesn't say "bad card" again.

Thank you Jesus!!! It works! whew! It's about time. I throw my two loads in, note how long it will take for the cycle to finish, and then I go back to the apartment (again). I sit. Actually, I don't sit, I do the dishes, wipe off the table, and I scrub our black cabinets.... yes. You heard me. I scrubbed our black cabinets. By the time I've finished all that my laundry's done washing. This time I am more than happy to go down and switch the loads around. After making 30 trips from the washer to the dryer, dryer to washer, washer to dryer... the clothes are drying. Naturally I get the clothes as soon as they are finished drying, because I don't want to leave them sitting in a dryer all night long for any one to come and pick through. So I bring them up and amazingly enough, I fold them. All. And that's where it ends. Because by the time they are folded, I am too sleepy to put them away. I mean, after all that the washer put me through, I'm just happy to have them folded. eh... that's what tomorrow's for though, right?