rmg's Laundry Day could not come soon enough. The pile of dirty clothes in my room was just shy of epic. Last week I only managed to wash the blue-ish clothes before losing interest in laundry, and after a monochromatic week I decided it was time to do something about it. I tackled the warm reds and browns today.
The load consisted of three t-shirts (one tan, two burgundy) two collared shirts (burgundy and brown), one pair of cargo pants (brown, fraying at the feet) and one pair chinos (grey). Into the machine they all went.
As the machine worked its magic I watched the opening episode of The Ultimate Fighter with my roommate (a drole reality television show about the interpersonal relationships of large, muscular men who seek to beat each other up at the end of each episode). While this was on, melting my brain, I composed a short poem about the washing machine:
Clunk, churn, bubble
Grumble, tumble, hissssssss
shh, shh, shh, shh, clunk
chug-a chug-a chug-a chug-a
Chunga chunga chunga chunga
At this point I fed the soggy clothes into the gaping maw of my ancient dryer. After cleaning the lint trap (why does my roommate always forget to do this?) I set the beast in motion. It groaned and shuddered to life.
45 minutes later I had dry clothes.
All in all a peaceful and meditative rmg Laundry Day. I look forward to the next one with anticipation.
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