This is a strange process. One I've never really experienced before; especially of this magnitude. Sure, I've MOVED before, almost as many times as my years but not like this. I'm packing my life literally into a backpack, and it's not even full. The house feels weird now, all the art is gone and almost everything left is the plain, personality-less furniture and items I have to leave. It semi doesn't feel like home anymore, and I haven't even left.
Of *course* the washer/dryer had to break 3 days before we go. It's very convenient bussing my wet dirty clothes around the city to finish the loads. Last night was spent, from 11pm until 1am, waiting for the LG service line to respond so we could get someone out here before we take off. To no avail. This morning we set the alarm for 6am to try again. Teen attempted first and they convinced her it was some random maintenance we had to deal with, so I called back, with an unwillingness to accept this. "FUCK YOU!" I said. In my mind. They should be arriving Thursday...
Today was spent searching for the perfect laundromat. One so incredible Kings would pledge allegence to it. One with pink decor, perhaps a swan as a mascot. And by George did I find such a place, only blocks away. And I called it, and it was $50, and I said "so be it, this laundry hath no place on my bathroom floor". I was instructed that the Queen would return my peasant-like request at her convenience. I received her response an hour later, with a myriad of very necessary and rational questions like "What is the quality of the building you live in? The exact address is needed so the staff can examine it's history of potential bed bugs or disease." It must of course be a certain level of prestige for my common folk laundry to intermingle with royalty. Her CHILDREN work there, for God's sake. Her 27 year old CHILD. Just a wee babe, prone to contracting potentially fatal diseases from this strange laundry from a foreign land.
What a psycho. When I obviously withdrew my request due to her insanity, she told me "Hun, sweetie, I'm only looking out for you and your best interest, I don't want you to come crying to me, like so many before, when your clothes get bed bugs if I'm not careful with them. DOCTORS use my services. I hope you understand. If you need to talk, I'm telling you as a mother, you can call anytime."
Anyway, there's an even better, cheaper, less insane laundromat at the corner of Denman and Barclay. Please go there instead.