So I’m sitting awkwardly in the basement of Eastman right now, waiting for my laundry to dry. I guess this can be a good exercise in seeing whether or not I’m capable of cranking out a halfway decent blog in eleven minutes (approximately).
I think that, overall, laundry time is a bad experience (unless you have someone to do laundry with). I don’t like the wait, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving my clothing unattended. It’s not like I believe someone will take it; but I don’t like to leave things to chance. So I sit down here and wait.
It’s not as if it’s unproductive. No, I finished all of my homework and now I don’t have anything mandatory to finish except for the Laitz reading, which I can do in about five minutes when I get back to my room. (It’s a big book, I didn’t want to have to lug it down with my bag and my laundry.) But other than that? Successful finish of the work for me today… and the homework for tomorrow and Wednesday? Totally out of the way.
So why is laundry awkward?
It is awkward in that the people who walk in, stare. And don’t speak. And then do their own laundry processes and leave. It’s like, what? Where would I go? Where else do I have to go that’s not the weird little room full of interruptions off from the kitchen, or my dorm?
So I sit here. And wait until my laundry’s done and I can shuffle over to fill my bag, then leave.