The Pink Shoe Diaries

i think i might have bitchy laundry etiquette.


in my apartment building, the laundry room only has one washer and one dryer. i suppose this is not too bad for a building that only has five apartments in it, but for someone like me who does laundry at the most popular times (after work, sunday afternoon, etc..) it does not seem like enough.

and i tend to put off laundry until the last possible moment. when it is do or die. when, if this load does not get done today, i will be going to work in PJs, and dirty PJs at that.

so yesterday i emptied out my huge laundry bag into the different sections (draws, bras and nightgowns/ darks/ and things i think-may-be dry-clean-only-but-am-too-lazy-to-actually-take to-a-drycleaner)

i own nothing white.

so i head downstairs with my first load and Miss Thing from the First Floor ( she is the only person in my building that i have never met, and she kind of scares me since her policeman boyfriend and her always have these really loud embarrasing fights that Adam and I can hear every word of) is already there, loading the washer item by item. so i exhale in that annoying, drawn out way, and turn on my heels to head back upstairs. i set the timer on the microwave for 25 minutes, because that is how long it takes for one load to wash and she had better be down there unloading when that buzzer rings.

so i head back down at the appropriate time and of course the load is done and she is not there, so i slam the dryer door a few times so she will hear me and know that i am waiting. apparently my slamming efforts do not work though, so i go to her apartment door, knock, and explain that her load is done and would she mind if i unloaded it into the dryer for her?

for some reason, she did not like this. not that i was relishing the fact of handling a stranger's wet underwear.

so she comes out and i watch her unload the washer and right when she is done i start loading my own while she is putting her own stuff in the dryer.

how annoying am i!?

the thing is, on sundays it is sink or swim as far as laundry is concerned. all 10 occupants of my building try and do a weeks worth of laundry and if you are not setting timers, tapping feet, and knocking on doors then you will be wearing ripped sweatpants to work on monday. so if i sacrifice my popularity in the building, at least i am doing so in clean pants.