 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Wednesday, Man, I must have CJD My brain is officially going. No doubt about it. First I start having problems remembering the names of various actors (this, from a woman with a steel trap for a mind when it comes to movie trivia). Then I introduce the Big Kahuness to Lyndon as a completely different manager. And now, this. We're currently in an apartment building that has a laundry room with a single washing machine. You have to book a 6-hour period to use the machine and the evaporating closet just to make sure that you get a week's worth of laundry done. You can't wash clothes on Sundays or holidays, which means there are normally only 12 slots a week for a building with 16 apartments. On a holiday weekend, the slots are even more restricted. I know all this. I've been doing the laundry since we moved in here. And last week, when I booked the afternoon of Wednesday, January 3, I did it in the knowledge that it was the last time available before I had to leave for Dallas so I would need to wash ALL of my clothes by that point. I come home early today. Grab the clothes basket, hump it into the laundry room for my afternoon slot. Only there are already clothes in the washer, and a whole pile ready to go in front of it. So I go down and check the scheduling board (it's pretty cool -- the board has double holes for every day of the month, and you can lock a marker in your selected slot). There, in front of my incredulous eyes, was incontrovertible proof that I had managed to confuse Wednesday, January 3 with Tuesday, January 2. I had booked the laundry room for yesterday afternoon. And there were no available slots until next week. Oh, fuck. Did you know that Stockholm has only one laundromat in the entire city? Thank Zoroaster it has a website, that's all I have to say. If you find me walking down a street someday with my bra on the outside of my clothes and wibbling to myself, please be kind.
|
|
Welcome | Lewis
Carroll | Speculative Fiction | Cool Canadian
Bands
|
