On December 23rd, my washing machine died.

Technically, it isn’t mine, but the landlord’s. I used to own a washing machine and dryer, but I actually ended up hating it. As my son got older and neared leaving home, I made a career change to writing, thus consigning myself to poverty for the remainder of my life. I made some pretty good money before and was stable and had a house and blah blah blah. After becoming poor, moving around became a requirement. I rented a house for a while, but the guy sold it, so I had to move. I rented another house for a while, but my lawnmower broke down and my lawn got long and the landlord turned into a giant cosmic fucking dick about it, so I moved out, like, that very day. God, what a dick that guy was. Jesus. He sued me because I didn’t give him notice and I showed up in court ready to fight but he didn’t and it was dropped. That was my first lesson in being sued. Suing someone is kind of expensive, so people usually just threaten it, send you scary letters with official shit stamped all over them, full of lawyerese language, so on. They’re hoping to scare you into going “Oh, shit!” and do what they want. They’re hoping to God you don’t say “Bring it.”

I actually ended up discarding my washer and dryer because they were such a pain in the ass to move around. Seriously, I was moving one time and just lugged them out to the sidewalk and put a sign on them that said “WORKS—FREE” and bolted. I didn’t even want to deal with selling them. Since then I have rented places that came with landlord-provided washers and dryers.

So I was washing a load a clothes and it came to the part in the cycle where it drains the water and rinses, only it didn’t. It just stopped. My clothes were just sitting there in soapy water. No amount of kicking, shaking, cursing, or angry dial turning would get the goddamn thing to drain. I had to rinse my clothes in the shower, which kinda sucked. I made a mental note to call the landlord after the holiday about it. I have a really cool, easy-going landlord at the moment and I didn’t want to trouble him over Christmas with a broken washing machine.

Well, it’s after the holiday and I’m not sure I’m gonna call him. I quite enjoyed going to the laundry mat today. Man, it’s been a while since I went to a laundry mat. Like, it might’ve even been the last century, I’m not sure.

Did you know there’s wi-fi at laundry mats now? That’s pretty cool. Instead of going to a coffee shop and listening to annoying “global” music just to check my email, download Mythbusters, and post something on Tumblr, I can actually get some work done.

Fucking multitasking. I love it.

I may call the landlord or I may not, but I did wash a few loads of clothes, took them home, and put them AWAY—like, RIGHT AWAY. That’s something I never do at home. If I had washed those same clothes at home, they’d still be in the fucking dryer right now. Instead of getting a clean shirt or a clean pair of boxers out of the dryer like normal, I will get them out a drawer, out of a closet, just like people on TV do.

The washing machine breaking down has made me a more orderly person and has given my dresser and closet something to do. They have purpose now and actually feel important again, nay, loved. You guys should see how their eyes light up when I come looking for a pair of socks.

You can’t beat that.