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Musings from the Laundromat: Unbrushed hair and Gratitude with a Stranger edition.
I’m going to have to start coming here on Saturday’s versus my usual Sunday’s. Once again the laundromat was already a hustle and bustle of carts and clothes and people.
I woke at 7:50 and didn’t even bother to brush my hair in order to get here before the crowd – probably I should have taken that extra minute because it didn’t make a difference.
Laundry Lady has bronchitis, but she’s here. And still has a smile on her face. I’d love to know more about her. With the limited time she has to talk to me each week, it would be hard to interview her.
I also got to see Glaucoma Man. He is feeling good and received positive news about his heart.
“I was thinking about you – and here you are.” He said.
Odd isn’t it? That random people think of you.
Odd and sweet.
I have much cleaning to do today – home inspection on Tuesday. Not that my home is ever a disgrace, but I suppose I’m pulling the equivalent of a woman fixing their hair before going to a salon.
This from the woman who didn’t even brush her hair this morning.
I should have been doing that yesterday, but for some reason Turner Classic Movies sucked me in and I found myself watching movies from the 1940’s and enjoying doing nothing.
Now I’m watching people fold – thinking of all I still have to do and glancing at the timer on my dryers.
Oh, one more thing. I was outside earlier and a man I’d never met before said, “What a way to spend the morning eh?” I smiled and said, “I just think about all those who would give anything to be here. ” Then added, “Look at that view.”
And we both stood and took in the gorgeous mountain range and for that moment were united in gratitude.
Two strangers just taking in the beauty of what is around us.
“Yeah.” He said.
Yeah.
Musings from the Laundromat: Pins, Pods and Cookie Tins Edition
“Take it Easy” is playing on the laundromat radio – which is apropos considering the mini OCD tantrum I just had in my head.
I got here early today. I did not want a repeat of last week. I was rendered completely discombobulated due to my tardiness. A laundromat hobo … with my cart and belongings, constantly on the move.
Today I have my usual spot and my items are in their usual machines.
When I arrived, after saying ‘hello’ to my laundry lady, I noticed a cotton candy haired older lady in an adorable pink jacket.
At first I wanted to put her in my cotton wool lined pocket with the rest of the adorable older folk I come across.
Not just because she was sweet looking and fluffy-haired – but bonus! She also looked like Muriel from Courage the Cowardly Dog.
So I’ve got a half-smile on my face and headed toward the coffee, having claimed my spot and ready for some caffeine.
On the way back, I spotted cotton candy hair lady’s cart.
In it – this:
I’ll admit (and probably partially due to the fact that I hadn’t yet ingested any of the coffee) I didn’t notice … and only further sighed at how adorable she was and how I was definitely adding her to my ‘sweet older person memory pocket’. THEN I noticed.
“Cloth’s Pins”
CLOTH’S pins???
I shouldn’t, but I hold older people to a higher standard. I expect the older generation to at least give that little wave of thanks that has become such a dying art, when I stop in a parking lot to let them cross in front of me.
I expect the older generation to say “thank you” which, has also become a dying art, when I hold a door open for them.
I also expect, that the older generation knows how to spell.
Prude. I know. If anything, the older generation has more of an excuse – perhaps she was pulled from school during time of war to help out at home. OR, maybe she grew up in a poor household and there was no money for school clothes or books. OR, perhaps she was one of many who came from a home that did not think it was important that the girls of the house even BE educated. Anyway, I could go on ad infinitum.
Bottom line, there are plenty of reasons to blow my unreasonable expectations out of the water.
But for some reason that little container bothered me.
She used a permanent marker for crying out loud!
AND – inside of the ‘cloth’s pins’ container?
Nope.
Laundry pods. *sigh*
For some reason THAT reminded me of THIS:
Only, with her container – there was no doubt. Those colorful laundry pods had their pod faces smooshed against the plastic. Definitely laundry pods.
Then again – maybe this whole inner OCD turmoil is all for naught. What if she used to keep pins in that container for cloths? Hmmmm….
I’ll go with that, and reserve her spot in my pocket.
Rhubarb and reaching out
I didn’t muse this weekend for three reasons.
- My atomic clock went backwards for some reason only known to it. So, while I was padding around the house preparing to shower and gathering the laundry, I thought it was a little after 7 a.m. Turns out, as my eyeballs woke up and my vision cleared that all the other clocks in my house were in disagreement with my bedroom. It was after 8.
- Because I was late to the laundromat, all the tables were taken. I did manage to find one, I placed my items atop of it and went back to my car to retrieve something. When I returned a man had decided things on a table meant nothing and he had made himself comfortable in my spot. This left me wandering aimlessly about the place, my laundry cart in tow, trying to find a place to write. I was completely displaced.
- I’m still in a funk. And I know there’s only so many posts anyone wants to read about someone else being in a funk. I don’t quite know how to describe how I feel right now. Definitely I’m not myself. Definitely I’m missing the man who only two weeks ago was still under my roof. And I’m definitely feeling like I should have pulled the whole movie moment of “NO! Don’t go. It’s a mistake and I DO love you!” Then I would have run gracefully into his arms and it would have been ‘Happily Ever After’ although, to be honest, I would probably have tripped over something or pulled a muscle with such exertion.
Some happy things about this weekend. I DID have some amazing yogurt. (Hey, if I have to pull from the smallest pleasures right now, I’m going to.) Anyway, it screamed at me from the grocery shelf with a declaration that it contained rhubarb! Rhubarb being a favorite of mine, I absolutely justified the insane cost, because I needed a treat.
I also watched a great movie, August: Osage County – which, I’m sure most of you have already seen, but it was new to me and just amazing performances.
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So why must I post now?
The morning began in darkness – as our State does not observe the changing of the clocks. So, while everyone is snuggled in bed at 5 a.m., it’s 6 a.m. for me.
This morning rain fell and wind snapped and I took my hairy manatee out for a blind walk she only half heartedly agreed to participate in.
And I thought of the horrors of this weekend – and how I could only bear to watch so much coverage.
I thought of all of the people hurting and hearts that are broken today.
I thought of the state of our world and I wanted to burst.
I need you – you see.
I need you because I am hurting too.
And no, I’m not comparing my situation in any way to being a victim of a terror attack … but I’m saying – when the world and the hurt just gets too big to hold inside, well, I need YOU.
I need to write. I need to reach out and know there IS still such good.
Even when I can’t lift my head up to see it sometimes.
Musings from the Laundromat: Gotta Stop Sobbing edition
Almost every morning while brushing my teeth a song pops into my head. Very random songs from every genre of music. I like to think it’s my subconscious sending me a message.
Today it was this song:
I have been (unsuccessfully) trying to hold myself together since my love left on Thursday.
I threw myself into cleaning the house – rearranging furniture – nesting basically. And every night I’ve reached out for a foot that used to be there.
I’ve been a wreck internally – but smiling and carrying on because I know that’s what people want me to do.
But it’s important that I mend.
This morning, I put my clothes in the washing machines and headed off to run an errand. On my drive I saw the most amazing thing. Dozens of black birds sitting on and around a beautiful irrigation gate on the Indian reservation. I immediately wanted to take a photo – but thought, “I’ll do it on the way back.”
On the way back – they were gone.
I missed that opportunity. Something beautiful was there and I put off capturing it, but I did at least have the moment.
I’m feeling a little like that now with life.
But, I’ve got to stop sobbing and appreciate that I had the moment.
Musings from the Laundromat: Oye Como Va – Mi Ritmo edition
Listen to how my rhythm goes …
Woke up at 8 and while brushing my teeth ‘Oye como va’ popped into my head. Santana was brushing his teeth with me.
Out of nowhere – songs pop into my head. I hear a song and remember a time, a place, a movie. Mostly movies. I can’t hear ‘Running on empty’ without thinking of Forrest Gump or ‘American Girl’ without thinking of Silence of the Lambs.
If all went as planned – today I would be waking up a wife. Yesterday was to be my wedding day. Instead, I woke knowing I have 4 days left living with the man who was to be my groom.
Life is like that.
That old joke:
My fingers hurt – I’ve successfully bitten off every single nail.
My leg hurts – I pulled a hamstring over a week ago and still so tender. Gawd only knows how, I think we know by now I do NOT do exertion.
My heart hurts …
But life goes on. Limping into action this morning I kept repeating ‘Oye como va’ in my head until I reached the laundromat.
Glaucoma man was here. I think I startled him with a hug. In fact I know I did because his reaction? “Oh!?” Poor guy. Sorry glaucoma man, but I hadn’t seen you and a familiar, albeit, a tad annoying face was welcome today. OK, his face isn’t annoying, but his constant chatter while I try to type is. Laundry lady’s patience wears thin with him too. I try to give him all my attention though.
Just learned so much more about laundry lady by the way … about the grandchildren she never sees, about the ex-husband who drew up divorce papers for one dollar in prison. About her son.
For an introvert, I sure chat a lot with the random people in my life.
That’s how my rhythm goes.
Debauchery Soup 