March 7, 2012

The worst chore in the land

I hate doing laundry. I despise it. Dread it. I'd happily clean my entire apartment every single day of the week. Wait on endless lines at the grocery store. ANYTHING but laundry. Up until we moved, my darling husband was on laundry duty, and I was eternally grateful. It's been a rude awakening to return to my least favorite chore. But since I'm working from home, which means near-empty laundromats on weekdays, it makes the most sense for me to take on the task. And I hate it.

I’d say the majority of NYC residents suffer without a washer and dryer in their apartment or even in their building. And I was surprised to learn that, at least here on the UWS, the number of drop off wash and fold places WAY outnumbers self service laundromats. In theory I’d love to have my clothes vanish once a week, and return clean and crisply folded (seriously - how do they fold everything so neatly?) – but I just can’t do it. The thought of someone else manhandling my clothes -- my underwear – my nice shirts. I just can’t.
My first-ever visit to the laundromat was real bad. Embarrassingly so. I was completely clueless and felt ridiculous and had to ask the sweet Asian-lady-owner for help every ten minutes. In fact, I guess my laundromat naivete was so memorable that when I came back the 2nd time, the lady-owner pointed at me and said "New Jersey! You're from New Jersey right?" and handed me a shirt that I'd apparently left in the dryer the week before. Oops.
There's also the whole problem of transporting said laundry. I'm not sure how it's possible for two people to create so much dirty laundry in a single week, but apparently it can be done. Fortunately the laundromat is only a block away but oh sweet mama it is the longest block in history when you are carrying thirty pounds of laundry ON YOUR BACK. After my laundromat deflowering I suddenly realized what all those granny carts are made for. To save your spine and dignity from Santa-like pack-lugging. Let me tell you, it's a humbling experience to walk across Columbus Ave with a laundry bag that is definitely bigger than you are, silently whimpering the whole time. After a month of toting the laundry by hand, last night I finally invested in a cart. 
Do you see what I mean? Who has THIS MUCH LAUNDRY?

(PS - After my first voyage I'm kind of feeling equally ridiculous with the cart. I can't walk behind it because my feet hit the bottom bar, and the handle is kind of low. Fail.)

1 comment:

jenny d said...

Hahaha. On the plus side, Pippi seems to like it.