Well, I have officially lived in my apartment for a week today, I love it more everyday, especially now that I am finally settling in. I have been unpacked since my first day in the room, but I am always finding more practical ways to keep things. It's a challenge with any new space to figure out how to best store and arrange your stuff. Usually I run to Wal-Mart and stock up on Rubbermade drawer units and baskets and shelves and the like. This time... not so much. I am trying to live more simply, so despite my intense love of storage containers and organizational supplies (it really is a sick love affair, I can spend hours walking through these aisles at any store imagining how practical each piece would be and how lovely it would be to have a place that I could organize with each little stack-able cabinet and set of drawers) I am avoiding buying any of my usual fun-stuffs and living with what was provided me.
In spite of what I considered to be a minimal amount of things brought with me, I still have amassed a full bag of laundry in the last week... So, today, it was off to the laundromat! One of thhe many fun little perks of Manhattan is no in-apartment laundry. So after filling two squeeze-top water bottles up with detergent and softener (I was soooo not lugging the family-sized bottles I had bought with me), I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked 3 blocks to the laundromat.
I will stop here to toot my own horn for a quick moment. Before I left MI, I picked up a few things I thought might be practical to have here in the city. One was this awesome canvas laundry bag, complete with shoulder strap, hidden quarter pocket and an external pocket for soap/softener. I am a little brilliant sometimes! I will also go on to say that there are laundromats that are a little closer to my apartment, but I google-mapped local laundromats and this one had a 4.5 star rating for cleanliness, equipment and polite service, so I was willing to walk a little farther in order to go somewhere I knew was decent.
Horn-tooting is over now, thank you for bearing with me. I think it is important to mention I have never in my life been to a laundromat. Oh sure, I had communal laundry in my college dorms and in the sorority I lived in, but I have never packed my stuff and hauled it out of my place of residence to wash my skivvies in front of strangers. It was quite the experience! First off, there were about 7 other people in the shop when I arrived and I had no quarters. Well, I had some, but the wash machines cost $4.25! I was not sufficiently prepared. After walking outside and trying to figure out where I could acquire a roll (or three) of quarters, I went back inside, armed with some cash and found a change machine. I was back in business.
I hadnt though to sort my laundry prior to my arrival at the 'mat so I tried to be as discreet as possible as I sifted through my dirty stuff. I must have looked like a crazy lady as I tried to hide all my personal things under shirts and towels. Good grief! I really ought to think about how I look to the outside world sometimes before I do things.
Once I had finished surreptitiously sorting my warms from my colds (I never did put much credence in whites and colors, only in what I can afford to shrink and what I can't), I stuffed my things in two machines that were conveniently next to each other. Uh... now what? The quarters wouldn't go in and the door wouldn't close. Didnt the dumb thing know that I WANTED to give it my money?? Sheesh! I had to give up my pride and ask for help. I picked a gal who looked to be about my age and seemed open enough to conversation and asked her for help. Apparently, quarters don't go in til the door is closed. Since my door wouldn't close (it really wasn't me... it really WAS broken), I couldn't put in my quarters. After wrapping my laundry in a towel, I was able to move it all to a machine that wasn't stupid and broken and no one had to see my skivs! Mission accomplished!
Now, all one does is sit and wait. Some people seemed to leave and come back when the final spin cycle was completed... not me, I watched those machines like a hawk! I was not about to play stupid-white-girl in the laundromat. I would leave with all the clothes I lugged and hopefully nothing extra (I did end up with a 'lovely' see-through thong that was freakishly small- washed and dried on my dime now- that I totally had not arrived with). My new friend (Patricia) kept me company through both rinse and spin cycles and the beginning of my drying. I feel the need to mention that drying is incredibly cheap, only a quarter per 8 minutes (32 minutes does it for most everything), so despite the cost of washing, it ends up not being so bad. After she left I was left with the now familiar issue of not wanting the whole world to see my skivs. I honestly do not know why the concept bothers me so much, at least they would all know I wear them and its not like I wear anything scandalous, being a much bigger fan of function over fashion when it comes to my undergarments. All I know is it bugs me. My solution, be THAT girl... pull everything out of the dryer one piece at a time and fold it then once I have a semi-decent stack, putting said stack in the laundry bag before grabbing handfuls of socks, and skivs and shoving them into the side of the bag to be folded in the privacy of my room. I say I am THAT girl because the laundromat provides these convenient baskets to load your dried clothes into so that those waiting for dryers may load their stuff while you wheel yours out of the way and fold off to the side. I ignored these baskets and did things my way. I am pretty sure I made no new friends in this process, but oh well. My undies were safe from public view! I conquered the 'mat and lived to tell the tale!
After this huge accomplishment, I felt pretty ok spending the rest of the day at Starbucks doing job-stuff and being productive in other ways. Oh, and since I promised to keep you updated, I did email that lady, sans photo, and she replied requesting a formal resume and color photo, which I skeptically sent (by far not my most attractive photo)and I have not heard from her again. Which is honestly okay. I didn't really want to watch her kids 60 hours a week, plus two weekends a month plus three mandatory vacations annually anyway. I would like a LIFE, where I still get to play like I have no babies.
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