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Musings from the Laundromat: Teeth, TMI & Comforter Forgiveness

I think I must finally be forgiven for my comforter faux pas years ago.

(You can read about THAT here.)

Laundry Lady just came over to my little table carrying one and asked me, “Is this wet do you think, or just cold?”

Ha!  Now I’m an official comforter advisor.

She has new teeth.  I noticed last week.  It’s so nice to see her smile.

As for glaucoma man, I was given quite an extensive account of what he called his ‘roto-router’ procedure at the hospital.

Apparently the nurses didn’t know what they were doing when removing his catheter and he’s still peeing blood.

I needed to know that at 8:15  in the morning.  I really did.

He’s an odd duck.  But, I would miss him if he wasn’t here.

It’s strange only lugging one laundry basket here.

I’m finding, in between missing my son, that there ARE some benefits to living alone.

Like, coming home and there not being dishes in the sink.  Like, walking from the bathroom to my bedroom sans clothes.

I would say it’s cheaper shopping too, but considering I keep sending my bird money for food – that’s not quite true yet.

**Breaking News**

A man just came up to me and said, “You know, I don’t think there’s been a Sunday that I’ve been here that you haven’t.”

I have never seen this man, or his wife before in my life!  Am I that oblivious when I’m laundering?  Apparently so.

Well, laundry is dry (as was the comforter in my professional opinion) and it’s time to head home to my sleepy dog and bid Laundry Lady farewell.


Musings from the laundromat: Quiet & Being Rude edition.

It’s quiet here today.

Too quiet.

The radio isn’t on and no one is chatting.

Even Glaucoma man hasn’t stopped by to say ‘hi’ – he’s busy folding.  He got here a whole lot earlier than me.  I arrived on time.

And now he’s leaving without a goodbye.

It’s funny, because the laundromat opens at 8 a.m. (Although Laundry Lady unlocks the doors much earlier than that).  As she looked up from receipts she was going through she said “Didn’t think you were going to make it.”  Why?

I always do – I just happened to be on time today.

Had a fun night at a work banquet last night.  I got to dance.  I love to dance.  And I spent quality time with one of my best friends out here. And of course, my work family.

It’s still hard for me to be in crowds, so I tend to overcompensate.  Do that nervous bravado chatter and last night it brought me some trouble.

First of all – I was nervous about wearing makeup.  I applied it early as I’m not very good at it.  Wanted to be sure to be able to wash my face and have a ‘do over’.  But, it seemed to work out.  I asked my son, “On a scale from ‘party’ to ‘hooker’ how do I look?”  Luckily the answer was ‘party’.

Here’s he and I outside.


He was preparing to leave.  Which, left me to pacing the house like a caged cat.

My friend arrived and the nervous chatter began in anticipation of having to ‘people’.

Event was fun once I settled into my table and was close to those I knew.

Unfortunately, nervous chatter became a verbal eyeroll at something that was said on the microphone and someone I don’t get along with very well stared me down and declared me rude.   This was out loud and what was said, literally, was “You’re rude.”  It was accompanied by a look of disgust.

I deserved it.

I own my part in it.

I do!

I brushed it off though and after eating too much food proceeded to burn some calories off on the dance floor.

I haven’t danced in so long!  Well, not in public.  I chair dance, bedroom dance and car dance – but that doesn’t really count does it.

My friend was ready to leave but I was feeling the beat and finally feeling comfortable ‘peopling’.

I acquiesced and home we went.

All in all, a great night.

And now here I sit, waiting for the washing machines to give up my clothes.

It’s threatening to rain outside, which, would actually be quite lovely for a Sunday.  Nothing better than a blanket, a cozy home and rain hitting the windows and roof.


I caved and turned the heat on yesterday.  After replacing the filters on my vents.  I woke early yesterday to find my son on the couch with a knit hat on his head and a comforter around him.  A little dramatic, but I got the point.

We went to breakfast then shopped for those filters and a few other necessities.

I also got a hair cut.  A treat for me.  I usually just let it look like a horses mane.  But my intention was to also color it.  I wanted to go darker, but the timing wasn’t right.  I had driven and my son would be stuck for a couple of hours as he doesn’t drive stick shift.

I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that he’s leaving soon.

Still doesn’t feel real.

And if I thought it was quiet here – with machine doors opening and closing and rumbles and laundry cart wheels dragging across the tiles – then I’m going to be in for one hell of a shock when he does go.  My home will be quiet.  And lonely.  And a piece of me will be gone.

Until then, I’ll enjoy each moment.

Each laugh I hear coming from his room.  Each late night refrigerator opening.

Each piece of clothing I pluck from the bathroom floor of his to bring here.

Musings from the Laundromat: Rocky Horror Clock Edition

My clock is confused.

I set it for 6 a.m. Knowing I could comfortably hit snooze a couple of times before gathering my laundry and heading out to the ‘mat.

Woke on time – hit that button like the lady of leisure I felt.

Next eyelid opening had me staring at 7:30.  Ok.  Laundromat officially doesn’t open until 8:00.  I still had plenty of time to do my customary brushing of tangled hair and morning teeth then find some pants to throw on.

I even toyed with the idea of showering first …

Then I walked out of my bedroom and glanced at my other clocks.



My time keeper had taken a step to the left.

Now, I realize it’s Sunday and other than laundry and light cleaning, I have nothing pressing on my agenda – but I did get that momentary panicked bird in the chest sensation and then “Oh shit” went through my mind.

I encounter this ‘Time Warp” annually.  I have a ‘smart’ clock.  I beg to differ with its intelligence as it is supposed to know that we, in Arizona, do not observe Daylight Savings Time.  Our clocks do not Fall Back this time of year.

And besides, dear clock of mine – that occurred LAST weekend.

So, I changed its mode to whatever made the time correct and proceeded to head out of the door weighted down with two baskets of dirty clothing.


Laundry Lady is here this week.  I’m glad.  Some normality returned to my routine.  We exchanged our usual banter and I sat at my 2nd favorite table.

While typing a man with a thick German accent asked:

“There is internet?”

“Yes,” I responded, “Free WIFI.”

He settled into the table behind me and has his tiny lap top out.  As I stuffed the dryers I asked, “Did you find it?”

“Oh yes.  You know, the McDonalds, they don’t have it anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, yes.  I think they do not want for you to sit too long inside.”

I can’t remember the last time I sat inside of a McDonalds.  Can’t actually remember the last time I actually ate McDonalds.  I think that’s a good thing.

I do have a ginormous piece of salmon that I’ll be cooking in between cleaning and binge watching Salem on Netflix.

And, I’ll be cutting my eyes over to my clock occasionally to be sure it’s not up to anymore shenanigans.


Something a little punny about ‘watching’ a ‘clock’ no?

But I will be.  Know this clock, I WILL be.



Musings from the Laundromat: Eyeball edition.

My right eye is still asleep.  Not sure how that’s possible, but it’s managed to accomplish it.

Laundromat has an odd atmosphere today.  Even Laundry Lady concurred with that.  She’s half asleep too, but I’m pretty sure both her eyes are working.

Glaucoma Man isn’t even chatty.

Him: Anything new?

Me: Not really.

Him: Same stuff just older huh?

Then he walked off to the vending machine.   Very unlike him.  I should have mentioned I only have one functional eyeball – that’s something new.


More people have descended upon the ‘mat now – the room is abuzz with various machine sounds and an assortment of patrons.  The radio is now on and being drowned out.  That, or one of my ears is sleeping too.

Chatter from the front of the room – and Glaucoma Man is folding his wash.  He never has much.  Just a tiny red mesh containers worth.

And he never says goodbye.

Just hurries out with his red bag in tow.

I wonder what he does after he leaves?  Does he just sit in his trailer and watch TV?

No secret what I do.

I have the social life of a corpse.

I’ll put the laundry away … Walk my dog around the yard.  Tidy the house then spend too much time with my dear friend Netflix.

Hopefully I can do that with just the one eye.

Musings from the Laundromat: Rashes and pup guilt edition.

Woke up at 7:40 “Fuuuuu ….!”

It’s becoming quite the routine to wake up late on Sunday, throw on shorts and a t-shirt, brush my teeth and untangle my hair and just leave.

The Laundry Lady even mentioned “You look tired” today.



But I am – so, can’t really fault her for her honesty.

After shoving two washing machines full, I returned to her to pour a cup of coffee.

I confessed to her in a hushed tone that I hadn’t even walked the dog this morning.

“I just figure, what if I woke at 9 – she won’t know the difference.”

She kindly agreed with me.

But probably I need absolution and have some Hail Mary’s to do – but since I’m not Catholic and I know my poor Manatee is thinking what the heck?!  I’m carrying the bad fur baby mom guilt while the dryers spin.

As for Glaucoma Man – he was in rare form.

I heard all about a rash that he had.  Was shown his leg.  Shown his hydrocortisone.  Listened about his eye, his heart, his desire for grapefruit juice that he can’t sate.

Meanwhile I was stuffing the washing machine and wishing he wasn’t looking at my laundry and standing so close.

I have become not only the muser here – but everyone’s ear.

Seven minutes left on the dryers and then quickly fold and get home.

Then I have a very important date with Netflix and my bed.

Of course, that’s after I walk the dog.  Who may or may or may not grant me forgiveness.

I’ll just give her a cheese stick – bribe my way back into her good graces.

I should probably carry some on me when I come here, when Glaucoma Man approaches I can give him one so he can’t talk so much with his mouth full.  Just hope he isn’t lactose intolerant – I don’t need to see anymore rashes.