So I spent one Sunday morning looking for something to wear to work. The khakis were easy to find. The socks (bough a new pack) were even easier to grab a hold (BTW nothing beats that "new sock" feel). The shirts... That's where the problem lay. You see, I had some shirts I kept meaning to wash, and those few shirts turned into nearly all my shirts. It didn't help that I didn't put them in the laundry basket, but peppered them about my place. Not one of my finer moments.
I found a couple of suspect clean shirts on the floor, and there was no way I could wear those. They smelled like floor, and who wants that? Floor smell is barely tolerable by the house owner and no one else, unless you're Strawberry Shortcake. I'd watch out for her homemade jams, by the way.
Of course then, it dawned on me that I should have washed on Saturday, when I had the free time to do so. So I gather ALL my shirts. Not just the dirty ones, but the ones I know that are marginally clean. By marginal, I mean I can't tell if they're dirty, BUT someone else might see or smell it better than I do. I don't go places to offend people, or at least that's what I tell myself. Most of all, I can't have my co-workers think I live in a garbage can like Oscar the Grouch. I'd be mortified.
So I gather all the dirty clothes, old socks, shirts, underpants, and t-shirts, and take them to the laundry. The change machine should have came with a warning. It spits coins at you. Was not prepared for the assault of quarters that came at me. Coins were on the floor, in the little pocket, and I'm surprised none went for my eyes.
I wash, I wait. The smart thing I did manage was to bring my iPod with me. Of course I brought some paper, but forgot the pen. Talk about useless. I left the fabric softer home. I needed two washing machines, and one HUGE dryer to get it all done. Bought two sheets of fabric softner for $1.00. Not bad.