Clean clothes

The day I hurt my back so bad was the day of my anniversary. It was also the day I was going to do laundry. Our tiny little apartment doesn't have a washer and dryer, so we still have to go the local laund-ro-mat to wash our clothes. Let me tell you, if you want to see some crazy folks, go to the University Drive laundromat, I think that's where crazy originated.

So anyway, when I hurt myself of course I couldn't drag the 50 pound bags of dirty clothes around. So it didn't get done. Until yesterday. Have you every tried going two weeks past laundry day? It was turning into a sad situation. We were down to our last pairs of underwear, you know, the ones you save for special occasions. So, since I was feeling pretty good yesterday, Mr. McHacker took off from work after lunch and we spent the remainder of the afternoon "doin' clothes." I know you envy my exciting life.

I guess the crazies don't like getting out in the middle of the day on a Monday, because it was surprisingly dull at the laund-ro-mat. That's usually not the case. I have literally had to ask a woman to stop smoking while I was folding my clothes (hello I go to there to get my clothes CLEAN), go outside to keep from feeling uncomfortable during a "domestic argument," restrain myself from saying anything to people who cuss their children, restrain myself from cussing those kids myself, and oh, the cell phone conversations I've overheard! I won't even go there. But anyway, it sure is nice to have clean underwear.