Success: Waking up at 6:30 on a Saturday to read and exercise.
Failure: Did a half-aced job of a Jillian Michaels work-out like twenty minutes before I had to run out the door because I spent the previous two hours answering e-mails. And not reading.
Success: Feeling positive about the play call-back I went to this AM.
Failure: If I get cast, my life will implode. I do not have time for this ish.
Success: Doing my laundry this afternoon.
Failure: Not grading a single paper all afternoon.
Success: Grocery shopping supes efficiently, so I can finish all my new play edits tonight.
Failure: Stopping in at a rando bakery to snoop/waste time.
Success: Lady gives me a free cream puff. And it's legit. Plus, still plenty of time to do my work.
Failure: Accepting dinner invite from Ro.
Success: A delightful meal of good conversation, glass noodles, and Thai iced tea.
Failure: I have dinner plans with Pinto for later. Boop.
Success: Very joy-filled day.
Failure: Do I need to say this again? I have done zero reading, writing, or grading for the entirety of today. Good job, me.
Success: I have three hours before I head out again.
Failure: I'm writing on my blog. So.
Showing posts with label Laundry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laundry. Show all posts
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Monday, May 17, 2010
Iron Basin America
Something terrible just happened. I am moaning with embarrassment. I put my laundry in earlier this afternoon and then went off to my afternoon appointments. Just returned home, plunked down to the laundry room, and saw my sopping wet clothes crammed in my basket on a side table.
"Whhhhhhhy?" I whined to my housemate down there. (Incidentally, the cashier from last week's story about being heckled at the pub.)
He smiled a bit confused.
"Whhhhhhhy would someone take my clothes out all wet?" I sniffled dramatically.
"To put mine in?" he said, confused. I was taken aback. I had assumed the perpetrator was an inconsiderate punk--someone I didn't know.
"What? Why?"
"Uh--I--"
I began to mock scold, but I ended up just scolding: "You don't take someone's wet clothes out of the machine!"
"Why?"
"They get all gross and potentially moldy."
(I'm right on this, right? They leave the machine and smell rank if not inserted directly to the dryer.)
He shrugged, a bit offended, a bit nervous--("Why is Alice freaking out?")--and left quickly.
I slopped all my stuff in a dryer, hung my sports bras, and padded away questioning my annoyance. If I wasn't there to get the clothes, did he have the right to usurp that machine? We all know how annoying it is when someone occupies the space way over his or her acceptable time. Or, since my clothes were in the machine did they have dibs on their cleanliness?
Iron Basin America: Whose washing machine need reigns supreme?
"Whhhhhhhy?" I whined to my housemate down there. (Incidentally, the cashier from last week's story about being heckled at the pub.)
He smiled a bit confused.
"Whhhhhhhy would someone take my clothes out all wet?" I sniffled dramatically.
"To put mine in?" he said, confused. I was taken aback. I had assumed the perpetrator was an inconsiderate punk--someone I didn't know.
"What? Why?"
"Uh--I--"
I began to mock scold, but I ended up just scolding: "You don't take someone's wet clothes out of the machine!"
"Why?"
"They get all gross and potentially moldy."
(I'm right on this, right? They leave the machine and smell rank if not inserted directly to the dryer.)
He shrugged, a bit offended, a bit nervous--("Why is Alice freaking out?")--and left quickly.
I slopped all my stuff in a dryer, hung my sports bras, and padded away questioning my annoyance. If I wasn't there to get the clothes, did he have the right to usurp that machine? We all know how annoying it is when someone occupies the space way over his or her acceptable time. Or, since my clothes were in the machine did they have dibs on their cleanliness?
Iron Basin America: Whose washing machine need reigns supreme?
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