Our washing machine broke last week. I noticed that it was filling up with water, but not agitating, draining but not spinning. Google suggested a broken motor, which sounds expensive, doesn't it? Ugh.
So rather than calling a repairman and facing that music, I took the path of least resistance...to the laundromat. Which sounds like a drag, right? Its cold outside, hauling baskets of laundry in and out and putting quarters in and waiting and...yuck, right?
No. Surprise of surprises. It was decidedly NOT a drag. Quite the opposite, really. I can confidently report that it was one of the most relaxing evenings I've had in weeks. It was a Tuesday night. It was me and a couple other quiet folks, gently washing, drying, folding. It was warm and bright and smelled of fabric softener. The TV was on in the background, the History Channel comfortingly droning on about buried treasure or something. Clothes tumbled rhythmically in dryers. No one was touching me, talking to me, needing me. Between moving clothing from washers to dryers, I sat in a comfortable seat and drank tea and read a book. It was practically on par with a spa day.
Also, I got what would normally take an entire day to wash done in 2 hours. Granted it cost about 12 bucks but that's cheaper than a movie or happy hour and honestly, for that particular night it was infinitely more relaxing than either. It was a beautiful night and since we haven't made any calls on the washer, it looks like I'll have to go back.
Damn.
1 comment:
I know! I too was surprised how thoroughly enjoyable the experience was. My husband and I fought over that task once he discovered it as well. But I have to be honest, it is very convenient to just walk down to the basement again.
Hanneke
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