Feelings

The Song That Never Ends

You know what I do to really depress myself? List all of the things that I’ll have to do for the rest of my life. It can be the most miniscule task, but it will still cause me distress to think about.

Some moms complain about how they’ve made a million school lunches for their kids. Yeah, I’m not talking about stuff like that. School lunches end. You really only have to make them for 5 or 6 years. If your kid is eating a packed lunch in middle school or high school, chances are they have no friends. So shut up about school lunches. Plus, making lunch is awesome. Anything to do with food is great.

Here are some examples of things that I will be doing for the rest of my life:

Bathing. No matter how many times you bathe a week, you will never be clean forever.  I know it doesn’t take up much time, and it’s often relaxing, but imagine how much extra time we would have if we didn’t have to ever clean ourselves. Tons of time! We wouldn’t have to invest in soaps or shampoos or blow dryers because we wouldn’t have any need for them. And think about all the water we would be saving! I think I just figured out how to obtain world peace. YOU’RE WELCOME, EARTH.

Cleaning/laundry/dishes/etc. It wasn’t until I lived on my own that I realized cleaning is the worst. I love organizing things. Cleaning on the other hand, not so much. It’s great when you’ve finished cleaning and your house looks spick and span until you realize that you have to do it all again next week. You’ll never escape the cycle of cleaning. You have to do it  FOR-EV-ER. I’ve found a shortcut around not having to do dishes. All you have to do is avoid using them. Good luck with that. Unless your body can sustain itself on chips and soda like mine.

You know those dwarves are gonna mess up the cottage again.

Working out/dieting. This has to be the most depressing. No matter how much you work out and eat healthy, you’ll gain weight if you stop. I wish there was a point where your body was like, “Sweet, I think I got the hang of this. I’ll take it from here.” If you’ve been at a good weight and then gained the pounds back, you know how hard it is to get back to your skinny point. It’s rough. Bodies are dumb.

Buying gas/food/toiletries. This sucks. Unless you’re an extreme coupon-er and have a stock pile of goods in your basement, I’m guessing you’re like me and have to buy this stuff over and over. You couldn’t really stock pile gas though, could you? Well, you could, but you’d have to put it in those weird containers and they freak me out. Gas shouldn’t be portable. It should only come out of gas stations. I know it has to be transported to the gas stations, but it would be more magical if the gas just happened to come out of the ground wherever the stations where. Wtf am I talking about anymore?

A gas station was eventually placed right on top of that spot.

Making money. Someone in your family has to go to work everyday. It might not be you, but there is some way you’ve acquired money. Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a sum of money that you eventually made that would be enough? Enough in the sense that you’d never have to work again. I guess this happens to some people. But if that happened to everyone, then we’d all have the same amount of money and it would kind of be like a commune where everyone has the same stuff. Which has always been an attractive way of living in my eyes. Maybe I should move to Russia? I would wear one of those cool hats and learn to do that crazy dance and drink vodka all the time. I probably wouldn’t do any of those things. Unless they included crying myself to sleep every night.

Hopefully everyone wants to kill themselves now.

Lot’s o’ love!

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P0wning N3wbs

Laundry Problems

Not our laundry room, but still absolutely terrifying.

There’s bound to be some drama when you have to share one washing machine and one drier with an entire apartment building. I’m pretty sure there’s a book about laundry room etiquette, but if there’s not, I’m going to write one now.

One Sunday night Paul and I were waiting for the washing machine to free up. Sunday night is definitely the most popular laundry night. Once the washer stopped, we took out the person’s clothes and put them on top of the washer. Usually I hate doing this. I hate when someone else removes my clothes. But it’s understandable if someone needs to get their laundry done. You should be there on time. So we put our clothes in and as we were leaving we saw a guy coming down with a load of laundry. I assumed that he figured that he was going to be next in line, but nope! Sorry suckaa.

When we went back down to put our stuff in the drier, that guy was waiting for us. His clothes were the ones we took out. He was trying to do two loads-one right after the other. AW HELL NAW. He reprimanded us and lectured us about how we should wait 20 minutes for someone to claim their laundry and put in another load if they want to. His logic was if you have a load of laundry in a machine, you basically own the machine. I think Paul was ready to punch him in the face. We actually said sorry and the guy still wouldn’t let go. So he’s a fun neighbor.

The laundry room gives me the creeps. It’s in the basement, it’s dark, has cement floors, and it’s surrounded by a maze of storage units. Rape central. I actually just filmed a video to show what it’s like, but I don’t like the sound of my voice recorded. Plus it sounds like I have a speech impediment. I SWEAR I DON’T.

The thing the scares the most about our laundry room is that there’s tons of space to hang your clothes to dry. Umm what? Who does that? It seems so archaic. Plus, my clothes would be stolen immediately because they’re so awesome.

Why do people hang their clothes to dry when there are driers around? Why are laundry rooms and basements so scary? What’s so funny ’bout peace, love and understanding?

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