I swear, I have nothing to say. It’s Thursday afternoon, and I’m certain that there are people who will get this in their feed reader and think to themselves, “oh, I forgot that she even had a blog.” So, I’m basically writing this just to jog your memory. Like a meaty paw landing on top of an albino’s head
Here’s a moral dilemma for you: Let’s say you pay a good amount of rent to your landlord for a really nice place that you loved. Let’s say that she installed a coin-op washing machine, “to help recoup some of the costs for water and power.” Next, imagine you have washed the kitchen rug (red) with your boyfriend’s jeans (now pink), and you are one quarter short of a recovery wash.
Do you:
a) confess, cry, and apologize
b) tear apart the house looking under every cushion and in every bag and pocket for the last quarter
c) immediately get dressed and go two blocks to buy quarters at the nearby market
d) use the maintenance key to the washing machine to initiate a free cycle
That’s right. I did it. I found the button, didn’t even have to look that hard. Just popped open the door to the mechanism, saw the thing that the thing that holds the quarters hits when it gets pushed, pushed it, and went on with my life. And Matt would never have known, if I didn’t decide this was the best way to entertain you now. See the sacrifices I’m willing to make?
The real problem, I think, is what I will do the next time that I have to do laundry.
Ted and Erin arrive today for their second tour of Seattle, since the great northern relocation last August. I always love their visits, as it basically results in more drinking and knitting and less sleep than my normal life. Friends like them are the best thing in the world, after grandparents: they love you, they’re interested, and indulgence abounds.
