It was driving me bonkers that my laundry day was being delayed. I dug through my purse, broke open my gumball machine and sheepishly traded in some quarters and dimes at the laundromat counter.
“We like change …” she said.
She’s sweet like that. Took herself away from her ironing to accommodate my change.
So now I’m back on track – albeit, a little later than normal.
First thing I noticed was the lack of carts.
Seriously, where did they go?? On a group mission to search for missing socks? I don’t know. There are usually 4 carts to a table.
There’s a different clientele in here too.
I don’t know these people. And while I’m glad I don’t have to do laundry after work tomorrow, I’m feeling incredibly out of my element with this new crowd.
SUCH a creature of habit am I.
“We like change …” I remind myself.
Because you know as soon as she said that, and even while I was making little quarter and dime piles, I was off on a tangent in my head about that sentence.
I’m not big on change.
I’m like a wary woodland creature.
I can be coaxed into a different environment by a treat holding hand with accompanying coos of “c’mon, little fella, it’s ok … I won’t hurt you”. But all the while I’m peering around and ready to scamper off back to the comfort of what I know.
I’m reminded of this right now …
Only I would see the box. Yes I would. I may be easily led, but not captured.
Unless it’s by my own damn rituals – like having to do laundry on a Sunday.
I’m still concerned about the carts by the way … they haven’t made it back and I worry about them. Perhaps I need to put down a trail of cart treats and coax them back?
What the heck do carts like?
Little droplets of WD40 for their wheels perhaps?
I’ll stick with my original thought that they’re on that sock finding mission.
Good luck on your valiant quest you brave, brave carts!