Laundry

I dislike doing laundry. It has very little to do with the process of making my clothes clean. A process that I not only enjoy, but relish it's end result as well. Rather, it is the process of dealing with the people at my laundromat. They are horrible. I can feel my blood pressure rise every time I have to go in there. They will not move when you need to get past them, despite repeated and increasingly louder "Excuse me"'s. They will take your things out of a dryer before they are done, so they can use the rest of the time paid for with the quarters and lint you scraped from the bottom of your purse. They will turn up the heat on a dryer you specifically put on delicate (so your underthings that cost more than should be legal don't come out looking like overcooked bacon) in order to steal more quarters and lint. I walk into this den of quarter thieves, underthings destroyers, and narrow walkway despots to find myself being impatient, snippy and suspicious of the small children running around and causing havoc. (It's true, I think they are spies and diversionary tacticians, you loose focus and your laundry is suddenly sopping wet and on the floor!) So I have decided it is not the people who are all awful, it is in fact the building. I think it may be a portal to hell, which is why it is always so hot (has nothing to do with the 40 dryers,) and everyone is instantly a worse version of themselves once they cross the threshold.

This is why I use the very convenient drop off service. They wash, and fold my laundry. It smells like heaven and all I have to do is pick it up and put it away and I get to avoid going to hell.