Let me tell you a little something about doing laundry at college. A few somethings, actually.
1) The primary unwritten law about laundry rooms is that there cannot be, under any circumstances, any sort of flattering lighting. Harsh florescence and exposed bulbs are the key to successfully washing and drying your garments.
2) Although you will be waiting for your garments to finish what will end up being approximately a one-and-a-half hour cycle, the only places to rest your weary feet are on a spindly metal chair or a nondescript concrete step. Also, you will not want to sit down, because that would suggest weakness...because goodness knows there are psycho kitten rapists in the walls. (I meant rapists that target kittens, not kittens that are also rapists...but either way, the image is terrifying.)
3) There are no instructions. Nor is there anyone (besides the kitty rapists...meow...) to tell you what to add first, the clothes or the detergent or the water, or what setting to choose when you just want to throw it all in there and be done with it. Oh, no. Trial and error is the way of the laundry room. Trial and error.
So that's what's up. Because I know you're fascinated by my laundry habits. Hello, college life. Speaking of college life...I would love to stop seeing kids from my high school in my current real life. Nothing personal (mostly), it's just that...I left that place for a reason. If they were actual friends, it would be cool...but no, they're the kids who know who you are, and you know who they are, and you all know you know each other, but you wouldn't talk to each other even if threatened with rape by/of kitten. Jeez, I don't know where this kitten motif is coming from. I should go read a book or something.
I have decided that everyone in the world...nay, the universe...should experience the Spartan Marching Band in some way, at least once. I'm officially hooked. Just so you know.
Have a lovely, laundry-free evening, blogees.
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