вторник, 26 ноября 2019 г.

What does a girl gotta do to get some April Freshness?

I had a major breakdown over laundry.  I literally cried over laundry.  First week in the new place and I was all ready to do laundry in the washing machine located just outside my door.  I had gone to Wal-Mart (yes, Wal-Mart… I amnnot too good for Wal-Mart) and bought laundry detergent all ready to go.  I am an independent woman!  I can make it on my own!  But I come back to find the washer in the apt
building’s hallway is half full of skuzzy water.  I came back to the bedroom and started whine, wince, and I might have even cried just a little.  My new boyfriend looked at me trying to figure out what color of crazy I was going to be today. He just didn’t get it.
For reference, I just officially signed over my part of the
house just the day before.  That did end in tears.  It was sad.  I lived in that house with my husband for eight and a half years and I walked away.  All that comfort and security was gone.  I was leaving a good man that I am not even all that angry with, but we both know that any hope for a romantic or family life together is long past dead.  But still, it was difficult.  I would not wish that moment on anyone.  It was harder signing the house over than it was signing the divorce papers.  The divorce was documenting the end of a partnership and I knew that was over.  But signing over the house was signing over my home… my heart.  Home is where the heart is and my heart is broken.  My
house is gone.
And this is where the new boyfriend got a little hurt.  I was whining about my old house, my old washing machine and the comfort of convenience of the washer and dryer was a symbol of everything I walked away from.  I then suggested that maybe I should have gone to Florida after all.  I wouldn’t have a job right away, but I could
have lived in a “family” set up with my dad and stepmom and I sure as hell could have done laundry.  He got really hurt by this.  He was like, “what am I, chopped liver?”  Of course, he didn’t say
this because he is not a stereo-type New Yorker circa 1955.  He was more like, “You would crawl back to
your loveless marriage, run away to your Daddy’s, walk away from me, for what?  Laundry?  Because you are too good for a
Laundromat?  He had a point.
The thing about the new boyfriend is two things:  He is blunt and he will not abide by my
mediocrity.  He will not allow me to settle.  This will probably get us into some arguments, but we are both passionate people who passionately love each other and an argument about laundry will not finish us.  Besides, he’s an attorney.  He argues professionally.  With a man like that, you have to expect to have a few fights.  I know if I do not hold my own that I cannot hold his attention. Lucky for us both, I know how to push back and how to hold on.  I’m not going to let a catch like Gilley go so easily. J
So, I carried my laundry two buildings over to a free
washing machine.  I can’t help but feel
like this is a step back.  I had superb
HE front loading state of the art washer and dryer on pedestals. These machines
would not only wash your clothes, they could cleanse your soul!  I know we paid a pretty penny for them and I
hope my ex appreciates them.  I miss them
like crazy.  I told my brother about the
breakdown and he understood in a way my boyfriend could not.  It is a step back.
In big cities like New York City the Laundromat can be
humbling, but it is also seen as just another chore.  Hardly anyone owns their own home or have the
space or inclination to have washer/dryer hookups.  Laundromats can even be trendy in big cities
or college towns complete with coffee shops, Wi-Fi, and trendy people folding
their designer hipster clothing finding love during the rinse cycle.  But I do not live in a sitcom.  This is suburban Indianapolis where Laundromats
are populated by the young, the poor, and the immigrant.  I know that sounds snobby, but it is
true.  I am a 35 year-old, educated,
professional woman.  I did have a house.  I did have status and comfort.  And I lost it.  It is a shock.  Don’t judge me.
I called my brother, and he felt my pain.  He understood what a shock it could be to
wake up one day in a strange place in an apartment with a cat beside an
interstate and you have no idea how you got there.  Scrounging the apt. for change to do laundry
is sobering.
I went down to visit him and he allowed me to do laundry in
his very own HE front loading machines with softened water.  He has no idea how blessed he really is.
There are things to consider when you don’t have access to
washing machines.  Questions that you
never thought you’d ask yourself.
How many times can I “recycle” jeans before they absolutely
need to be washed?  (about 4 times)
How dirty is “dirty”?
The “sniff test” has a whole new meaning.
Reds and darks can be washed together if everything is on
cold, right?
Is underwear completely necessary?
I will love again.  I
will own a home again.  I told my bf if
he is serious about me that I care more about HE washing machine than a fancy
diamond ring.
Truth be told… I kinda want both.  I am saving up already to purchase a new house.
I will love again and I will again do laundry in my own
home!  I believe in LOVE! I believe in
ME!  I believe in laundry!  As God as my witness, I will never scrounge
for quarters again!

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