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clean favorite socks!

I cannot tell you when was the last time I did laundry. I cannot tell you because even if I could trace it back I would be too embarrassed to say but mostly because I cannot trace it back to any particular month or season. I have a hunch about what year it was.

Old friends and circle members know that I own an obscene number of socks and a semi-obscene number of pairs of underwear. When we lived in the warehouse in downtown Seattle in the early 90s I developed the habit of buying new socks and underwear when I ran out because it was such on unwieldy process to do laundry there. There were no laundromats nearby so lisagail and I would have to pack up all the dirty clothes and linens and towels and blankets and put them in the van--which was purchased mainly to haul musical equipment but worked well for lots of other things--and drive to some laundromat hoping that there would be both parking and unoccupied washers and dryers. Somehow it was much worse than walking to the laundromat is now even though I did not have to carry 50 pounds of laundry on my back down the sidewalk in the middle of the night because it back and pwas in the van and we did laundry during the day like more normal folk.

Not that we were normal folk. We were both diurnal back then though.

But so I have a large collection of socks and underwear some of which came with me from Seattle to here in 1996 because for at least twenty years now I've continued to repeatedly buy a couple of new pair in order to put off doing the laundry for a few more days. Unfortunately I cannot afford to do that anymore. I can barely afford to do laundry but one must have clean clothes so oatmeal it will be for the next week. But fortunately I have amassed so much underclothing that I can go for months without doing the wash.

And so I do. Because what is a more hateful chore than going to the laundromat? That is a rhetorical question. Everyone knows there is no more hateful chore than going to the laundromat.

Unless there is one nearby that is open 24 hours a day. Then it is slightly less hateful because there are fewer people in the middle of the night and thus row upon row of washers and dryers wait emptily for your dirty clothes. And the laundromat that is nearby and is open 24 hours also charges less per load between midnight and 6 or 7am. So that is when the nocturnal poor do their laundry. The rest of the time the place is mobbed.

I am back from the laundromat. I have not unpacked my clean clothes because I am too worn out from hauling them down the street and back. I am thinking of weighing them before I unpack them tomorrow just to see what I did manage to burden myself with. I think I pulled every muscle in my back and possibly some of yours but right now ibuprofen is taking care of inflamation so when I wake up in another 12 to 15 hours I will probably then know precisely which muscles I trashed.

The sad thing is that there is actually a bit more laundry to do. I need to wash a bunch of towels and the bathroom rug but there is a limit to how many muscles I am willing to sacrifice at one time. So with some determination perhaps I can really finish the job next time I am awake at night. Because actually, once I was there? Not so bad. I mean I still lost three hours of my life to watching bad tv in between checking to see if I had used enough or too much soap or if anything was dry enough to pull out so that the hot air it was taking up could be released to absorb water from something still damp.

And I think to myself that I will never let it pile this high again. But I know myself pretty well. I might want to go back to lifting weights so that next time I can carry twice as much.

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( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 11th, 2011 02:13 am (UTC)
Yeah, one of the nicest things about owning my house was the washer and dryer; I can do laundry in the privacy of my own home in whatever garb I please.

Before we had that I often just washed things in the kitchen sink...
Aug. 11th, 2011 06:09 am (UTC)
The nicest thing about my place on Sears Street was the fact that downstairs was laundry. I mean OUR machines! Of course, there was inter-house drama around who could come and go downstairs and up and who had to give notice to who, but -- it was still wonderful and most of the time there the coast was clear and there was no drama.

I doubt I will have that again any time soon once I actually find a new place to live, unless I actually do go and live in Colorado as I might. At least, for awhile... you get so much more room there for so much less money and often at least laundry in the building. But time will tell.

The place I'm in now, has laundry in it too. I'm at Luna and Lee's in Hayward for the time being - between places. So nice to do laundry in my pajamas!

I get you on the buying new socks and underwear instead of doing laundry. I've done that too and I have piles of socks and underwear from years past and so many clothes I don't have to do laundry every week. Moving all those clothes is a drag though, so I have often tried to get rid of some of them. It is never easy.

Congrats on getting that laundry done!

Aug. 11th, 2011 05:30 pm (UTC)
Yeah I miss the apartment on Guerrero that had the washer and dryer inside our unit--only three housemates to fight over it and that was usually not a problem.

Colorado, eh? Whereabouts? I don't know if I told you about moving my friend Cris back to Colorado Springs the first of February. We drove through southern Wyoming in I-80 in 60-below weather. It gets cold out there!
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