my glamorous life

I really hate doing laundry so I let it pile up until I absolutely can’t put it off anymore and then I stuff it all into the biggest H&M bag I have lying around and lug it all over to the laundromat, which is right across the street from my apartment.  Convenient, right?  It also conveniently leads to situations like this one when I’m walking back home with my bags of clean clothes (which for some reason always seem to take up more space than dirty ones):

Sometimes I would kill to have my own washer and dryer.


12 responses to “my glamorous life

  1. Sometimes I get so far behind I just go new panties on the way home for work. It is my secret shame.

  2. I did without for twenty years. It wasn’t worth it, especially when some meth-head kicked in my door and took all the quarters I’d been laboriously saving for the next three or four loads.

    Weirdly, though, I still put off doing the laundry, even though I don’t have to go anywhere to do it now.

    • I always say to myself that if I had a washer/dryer in my own home I would be a laundry MACHINE, constantly washin’ shit. But in reality I would probably still put it off until I absolutely couldn’t anymore.

  3. Is it normal to not have a washer and dryer in the USA? Here in the UK, they are like a staple in more or less every home.

    • If you own your home here in the U.S. you probably have a washer/dryer, but renters (at least in big cities) are pretty much shit outta luck. Lots of apartment complexes have laundry facilities but it usually costs less and is more time-effective to lug everything to the laundromat. Something I definitely won’t miss about apartment living, providing I ever actually escape apartment living.

  4. OMG. This happens to me like every friggin’ time I do laundry. The unglamorous parts of poor, city living. Sigh!

  5. Wash your unmentionables in the sink and then let them air dry over night. My mother-in-law bought me a washer as a gift (Just a washer, no dryer. Hey, I appreciate it though!), but I just air dry everything.

  6. Seriously this is the worst part of NYC life. After 3 years of living here (out of the 10 total), I finally decided that handing my dirty underwear off to a drop-off service was TOTALLY FINE. The is the one extra expense I will gladly eat.

    However, I have to carry it 2 blocks up and down a big hill so I never want to do it.

    I’m moving into my boyfriend’s apt building in a month and they have a LAUNDRY ROOM DOWNSTAIRS. It closes at 7pm and I’m usually at work ’til 8pm but I have faith I’ll work something out.

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