What a fraking awful day...it's not like today was going well by any stretch of the imagination anyway. Between the coffee rush and subsequent crash and general neurosis and paranoia, I remembered that today just happened to be the worst day of the month---laundry day. You'd think that sorting laundry, shoving it into the machine, pouring detergent over the mess, and inserting a couple of quarters would be brainless, but it's anything but in this crappy grad dorm that I live in.
First, there are about 20 washers, about 19 of which work on a regular basis, and 20 dryers, about 20 of which don't dry. I'm wondering if this might be a slight problem. In the beginning of the term, I decided just to wash my clothing and hang it up in my room to dry. That worked wonders. My damp clothing gave my room a definitive Amazon rainforest feel. Of course, I didn't have enough hangers for my underwear and socks, so I spread a sheet on the floor and waded through undergarments for several days. The end result of this little experiment is that all of my M sized shirts could now comfortably fit someone who's XL, and everything else is stiffer than cardboard and feels like cardboard when I wear it.
Everything that could possibly happen has happened when I try to do laundry. It's like running an obstacle course with a loaded laundry basket. So many of my quarters have gotten stuck in the machine and gone to the evil laundry gods. Once, I was so out of it that I starting washing a load, then pushed in another rack of quarters for no good reason. I dread doing laundry, so I only face extreme and intense pain once a month rather than spreading the pain over the month...I don't go for strong torture methods. I prefer a bullet to the water drop torture method.
So out of the 20 dryers, three semi-work. We define semi-work here as drying half a normal load successfully. All of the other dryers apparently can handle a max of five pairs of pants. Five cotton t-shirts are apparently too much and still come out damp. I have never in my life encountered more useless dryers. I could seriously stand in front of my clothing, blow vigorously, and they'd probably dry faster than turning in these monstrosities. It's probably not a good sign that you can see the beads of condensation trickling down the inside of the glass door.
The whole trick is to snatch the three semi-working dryers. Otherwise, it's entirely hopeless. Today I was unlucky and had to wait for one dryer...which also turned out not to work. On top of that, I got bitched out by the girl whose wet clothing I took out of the dryer two hours ago. So I had to resort to only using one of the semi-working dryers and a couple of the non-drying dryers. Honestly, it would probably have been a better use of my time and money if I had just sent everything to the dry-cleaners.
Laundry is not supposed to be painful. I don't understand how I can take something this simple and make it into such a huge deal. Life can't be as frightening and complex as I make it out to be.
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