life done write

Lately the simple things have been giving me immeasurable trouble. My car handle. My car lock. The Internet. Etc.

And the latest of these simple troublemakers is my laundry. Oh, yes, my laundry.

It began last week with a long walk down to the on-site laundromat, with a giant hamper in my arms, a purse on my shoulder, a computer on my back and Luna in tow. I got all the way downstairs before I realized that my quarter supply was incredibly diminished. I wouldn’t even be able to do one load.

Since I didn’t have time to go get quarters that night, I hauled everything back upstairs and waited.

Two days later, with $10 of quarters, a very full hamper, a purse and Luna in tow, I returned to the Very Far Away on-site laundry and filled three washers. After pouring detergent into said washers, I pulled out my quarters to start the machines.

And I didn’t see any quarter slots. There were no quarter slots. Only card slots.

Thinking that there must be a card machine somewhere nearby, I scoured the laundromat. No cigar. Someone else came in: I asked him. And it turns out (how convenient of them) that you have to go to the clubhouse to get a laundry card.

I nervously left my laundry and ran to the clubhouse to breathlessly ask for a laundry card.

“Do you have a five dollar bill?”

No, I did not.

“The machine only takes five dollar bills.”

“How the hell is that supposed to be efficient or helpful?”

“Sorry.”

And so off I went, pockets full of quarters, to bag up my laundry detergent-soaked clothes which would be washed in a real off-site laundromat at the first opportunity.

Thing one: why the hell does the machine only take quarters? Thing two: why the hell is there nothing in the laundry room that directs you as to where you can get a card? Thing three: why in the world would I pay $2 for the card and then put lots of laundry money onto it, you robbers? Thing four: WHY would this not be in the lease or in some sort of materials you get when you move in or AT LEAST told to you verbally?

Thing five: why are the small things of the world conspiring against me?