Category Archives: Musings from the laundromat
Musing from the Laundromat: Memorial Monday Edition
It’s quiet. It’s Monday. And I’ m here.
There’s a different laundry lady today, and I’m sad I missed my usual one.
There’s something missing from the atmosphere today.
The room feels like a piece of gum that lost its flavor. Bland and more like a chore than an excursion. Then I remind myself, ‘well, it IS a laundromat.’
And I’m wishing I had waited for the coffee to brew before I left the house, because the pot here is as empty as the air is of excitement.
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So now I’ve shared my first world problems with you – let’s take a moment to honor what today is all about.
THANK YOU to all who have served their country.
THANK YOU to the men and women who thought protecting the freedom and way of life of their families, friends and complete strangers was worth fighting for.
Worth dying for.
My honey and I spent some time with the neighbors last night. We were invited to join them for some cocktails and to enjoy their vantage point to see the firework. It was a lovely night.
And while America is not my country of origin, I just couldn’t help getting goosebumps when the red, white and blue exploded in the sky.
Like giant, electric dandelions.
This English girl was feeling quite patriotic.
Then I had my usual thought when I hear fireworks – that there are children hearing that same “BOOM!”, only, there are no pretty colors falling from the sky … no ‘OOos’ and ‘Ahhh’s!’ Just … fear.
And our men and women are there too.
And trying to bring an end to the unrest and ever familiar assault on towns – bombs getting closer and closer to that child who’s grown up hearing the chaos.
And here I’m wishing I had a cup of coffee.
Such ridiculousness.
So again, THANK YOU to those who have given of themselves for a better today, and THANK YOU to those serving now for a better tomorrow.
Musings from the laundromat: Double Loads and Spilled Coffee
Got here an hour later than usual. I was greeted by a different crowd – ok, they didn’t technically ‘greet’ me … actually, it’s kind of odd here today. No one is smiling.
Everyone is pretty much keeping to themselves.
Lonesome Laundering.
ALL of the machines I like to use were mysteriously occupied, and I say ‘mysteriously’ because the ratio of actual humans in process of laundering, versus amount of machines didn’t make sense. Although, math never was my strong suit, so I’ll let the mystery be.
Shoved all my stuff in the ‘double load’ machines. Grrrr. I call bullshit on that label. First of all, you get as much in the ‘double’ load as you do in the ‘single load’. And they charge whatever the difference is between $2.25 and $1.65. Ok, I DO know this one … 60 extra cents! Highway robbery.
Anyway, after I’d stuffed the two machines … I wandered over to the counter area in search of coffee. Had just finished stirring in my powdered packet of creamer – AND gloriously knocked the entire cup over, which, went in the direction of the laundry lady’s work area.
Me: I’m SO sorry … I spilled!
Her: It’s ok, I was getting bored anyway
Me: Well, I’m sure this wasn’t on your dream list of things to occupy your time with …
She didn’t disagree, and I felt awful. Just horrible.
I helped clean up, then slinked off with another cup.
The dryer has stopped – think I’ll cut my losses, fold and get out of here before I spill something else.
Until the next Musing … have a great week – and don’t forget to eat your veggies!
Musings from the Laundromat: Monday Night Edition
After a long day at work, I really can’t think of much less I’d rather be doing than sitting at the laundromat.
Then I spot 3 children in their school uniforms and think, probably their mom wants to be here even less than I do right now.
Big shout out to you moms by the way. The ones whose day isn’t over until everyone elses needs have been attended to – no matter how tired you are.
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So there’s no disco ball … no club kids or anything.
No ‘unce unce’ throb of techno or singles eyeing each other.
Not sure what I expected to find after hours at the laundromat – but it’s pretty quiet, pretty empty.
Turns out my laundry lady wasn’t here yesterday either.
Her: It’s strange seeing you here tonight.
Me: Yeah, it’s strange being here.
Her: I wasn’t here yesterday – but I told my manager I had a regular who would want coffee.
All I could do at that point was give her my ‘Awwww! Thoughtful!’ eyes and shuffle over to the laundry card machine.
As for ‘night’ laundry, it’s still blindingly bright outside and was 96 degrees in the car on the way over here. Sort of takes the whole ‘night’ thing out of the equation doesn’t it?
And apparently I’m a morning writer – because I am at a loss for more words – and after typing for 8 1/2 hours – would rather not anymore.
Until we muse again!
Musings from the Laudromat: Meditation, Math & the answer is Yellow Edition
This is truly a beautiful sight …
No, not the man in the hat, although, I’m sure he’s a lovely person.
It’s just such a relief to have had the pick of the washing machine litter.
No sign of glaucoma man – so I am sitting in peace and quiet, enjoying the hum of the machines and gentle whoosh of the air conditioning – while gazing about at the few patrons.
It’s funny how this place has become something I look forward to when I once dreaded the trip.
The sounds are calming – the scent of detergent and softeners are soothing. It’s like a little vacation. Laundry meditation if you will.
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Just stepped outside for a moment and was captured into a fitted sheet conversation with an older man.
“Let me ask you something.”
I turned my gaze from the quiet highway to his weathered face.
“I just bought a queen sized mattress for my 5th wheel – it’s 6 foot 2 inches long and about five feet across …”
At this point, I’m wondering if he’s winding up for a word math problem, and I’m starting to panic, because I never did know how long it would take a train to get from one place to another if Johnny had 10 apples and Martha needed change after sharing a hotel room with three of her friends after tipping the damn bell hop.
You know, THOSE word problems.
So, I hold my gaze and pray I know the answer.
“It’s about this thick (gestures with hands) Do I have to get special fitted sheets?” (Phew!)
“No, not if it’s that thick.”
Continued my very helpful answer with a few store suggestions after he mentioned going to one of the pricier places in town.
“See you inside!” I said – a little chirpier than necessary. I think I was still glowing from getting the answer right.
He’s folding his quilt now, and it’s a chaotic lump of a decent attempt.
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Meditation time is over … just had a small child in a yellow top put his yellow dump truck in my yellow laundry cart and start to make off with it – along with my purse.
“I’m SO sorry!” Said small childs mom.
“That’s ok – he’s having fun.”
Good thing he can’t talk – because I don’t have any more answers today. He might have needed to know how long it would take his dump truck to reach another cart if he added a juice box into the mix.
Musings from the Laundromat: Mens razors vs womens razors
I have always held the belief that the razor industry has been screwing us gals.
We shave more skin footage than men (is ‘skin footage’ a thing? It is now) we also have curvier ‘bits’ than men (ie: ankle bone) … and don’t play the ‘but the face is more sensitive’ card with me either – we all know we women shave areas FAR more sensitive than a face. And yeah, as we age, on occasion, we shave OUR faces too.
I remember a time women would get 2 blades versus men’s 3. Then the razor companies stepped up their game and when men got 4, count ’em FOUR blades, we eventually got 3 – and so on.
The problem with the ‘ladies’ razors is – THEY DON’T BLOODY WORK! Well, they DO bloody us.
And when we’re nicked, and that first spray of water hits our tiny wound, shower water suddenly transforms into lemon water. This, I am certain, is a scientific fact.
So you try the ‘safety blades’. You know the ones – they have those little vertical wires across the already ridiculously ineffective horizontal blades.
Look how happy this woman is shaving ….
She even drew a happy face into her shaving cream, you know why she was able to? Because the blades are so dull there was no danger. And GAWD! Don’t get me started on shaving cream! Too late.
I don’t WANT perfumed, expensive gels or foams on my leg. Especially when a blade and skin is involved. Who in their right mind wants fragrance involved in a skin nick?
Plain old $1 Barbasol works for me – never mind paying triple for gel that is going to leave my shaved parts itchy.
‘Designed for the way a woman shaves’. What does that mean?
Men apparently shave WITH the grain of their facial hair growth, but not on the neck.
Well, I’m here to tell you that there are parts we shave with the grain, and parts we don’t. So I really don’t know wha the big difference is.
I do know one difference. The price of the flipping razors.
We’re screwed there too.
I just stopped buying women’s razors all together and got better results and less financial hemorrhaging to boot.
Won’t be long before they start selling tiny little squares of toilet paper geared toward women to put on their curvy cut bits. And the crazy thing is – there are women who would buy them!
And they’d be twice as expensive as toilet paper!
Stop the maddness! And give us ladies a razor that works – for the same price as a man’s one!
Debauchery Soup 