I hate doing laundry. My husband does the laundry. This is something I explained he would have to do, when we first started dating. I have not done laundry in about a decade. I know, pretty sweet life, huh? It's because my parents bought a laundromat when I was a teen and I had to work there after school and stuff, doing other people's laundry. Ugh! They only owned the place for about a year, and it was a very strange time. I have lots of random stories that I keep threatening to put into a book or a play or something. I do have a lot of good memories there, of course, but I still loathe doing laundry.
This week, my hubby is opening a show. So he's in tech all day and all night, and has no time to do the laundry. I decided to be NICE for once in my life, and went to the laundromat two blocks away to do three loads of laundry. We only have one machine in our building. I did all three loads in about an hour. It was traumatic. But not, actually. I went to the library to pick up two books I had on hold while the clothes were washing, and also got a burger at Dairy Queen. I switched the clothes into the dryer, and read the first few chapters of one of the books I picked up. It was all very...easy. And uneventful. Sigh, maybe I'll go back to doing laundry.