It’s true. I’m the crazy laundry lady. Well for today, anyway.
After cooking dinner yesterday (meatloaf and mashed potatoes) and lunch today (pork cops and rice pilaf), I went to the laundromat to do some laundry.
The thing is, I was washing my bras, so I had none to wear. So I didn’t. And I wore my Caturday shirt*. And some hot pink, wedgie-inducing leggings. And I was grumpy.
I was, without a doubt, the weirdest person at the laundromat. And that’s saying something.
But I acted cool. I pretended I wasn’t wearing a shirt festooned with felines. I even drank my can of Dr. Pepper with my pinky extended, just like one of them fancy people.
I did not talk to people at the laundromat. Except to ask for change for a $20. And when that blonde lady was in my way, I looked at her pointedly and said “Excuse Me.” With a bit of attitude, mind.
No worries tho. I’m back home and thus no longer a crazy laundry lady. Edmund and I are leaving soon to go see a movie, and I’ve changed into some more comfortable sweats, and although I still will wear my Caturday shirt (sans undergarment) I’ll wear a sweatshirt over it (it gets cold in them there movie theatres.)
Crazy Cat Lady: yes. Crazy Laundry Lady No More!
*It’s Caturday:
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