I have a rubbermaid container sitting at the bottom of my closet at my school house full to the brim of my laundry, sweatshirts, undies, socks, Ts, and jeans, all begging to be cleaned. I even bought a pack of underwear(s) at Wal-mart last week so I wouldn't run out this week and be forced to go comando —living life on the edge.
They look like little girl underwear though. They have a thick elastic band surrounding the waist and pink polka dots and flowers. Gag. Isn't there anything better to chose from?
My laundry room just sits at home waiting for me. With its pretty dark denim blue walls and the stark, white lace curtain (Adrie, cue gag). The tiles been have barely walked on by me, and the washer and dryer barely used.
Oh and the door! The door is the best.
What's special about the door, you ask? Well nothing really. It just a normal door that can be opened and closed at will, but that's the point! I can start the washer—overloaded, bogged down with heaving quilts, so that it clunks and bangs, of course—close the door and leave it behind. I don't have to hear it!
It's the little things people!
Well, I suppose. The Spin 'n' Go laundromat awaits.
Enjoy your day,
Love from 'Brasky, still,
The Future Mrs. Simmons
211 days!
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