The laundry had to be done. So, I sorted it out and hauled the first bag down to the second floor laundry room. Lo! there was someone's finished load still in the washer. Just sitting there, getting wrinkly. I deeply dislike moving other people's clothes, but I politely removed the washer's contents and set them on top of the dryer, with minimal muttering under my breath about *some people* who *can't count to 31* As this, my first load, only covered half of my dirty laundry I knew that if I was to wash all of my clothes I would be monopolizing the dryer for at least two straight hours. If the owner of the camo print pajamas and unreasonably tiny unmentionables should come into the laundry room, with its one washer and one dryer, and discover my impudence, my theft, what would result? This has happened to me before and is really very aggravating. So, I gathered all my remaining laundry, soap, quarters, and dryer sheets and hiked down to the first floor laundry room - after stopping briefly on the third floor to put my air-dry clothes on my bed - to be dealt with later. I *nearly* fell down the stairs to the first floor, but I dusted myself off, put in the second load and started the first load in the dryer. Another trip upstairs to wait. I walked back down to the first floor, popped the second load in the dryer with the first, threw in another quarter (yes, it is cheaper and faster this way) and went back upstairs (2 1/2 flights) to wait for about 40 minutes. In the meantime, I hung up the air-dry clothes and made my bed. I went back down to the first floor and gathered my clothes. On the way back up to my room I popped my head into the second floor laundry room.
The camo print pajamas and unreasonably tiny unmentionables were still piled on top of the @&%$* dryer.
*head hits desk*
Why do I try to be nice?
No comments:
Post a Comment