Footprints on the Moon

Self Portrait Sunday, the laundry maid version. Also known as, no intention of leaving the house, a day of laundry and dishes and being lazy. Also known as reverting back to life as a college student and simply covering up my dirty hair instead of washing it. My apparent inability to shower aside, it’s been a pretty good weekend.

Friday night was pizza, movies and gossip with Sarah. Saturday was much of the same, just without Sarah… I did manage to actually leave the apartment, but totally against my will. If it hadn’t been for the movies that I’d rented for girl’s night, I’d have continued my self-imposed exile from the snow and cold inside my apartment until Monday morning. My diet this weekend has been crappy enough to almost require some Ephedrasil hardcore… or just to get off my ass and do something other than watch movies. I have a tendency to hibernate in the winter. I am not a big fan of winter… if it wasn’t for the fact that ALL of my family is here, I’d be seriously looking at moving someplace where it doesn’t snow twice before Thanksgiving.

Today I did my laundry first thing this morning, and kept having to deal with the lady who lives across the hall from me. Apparently telling time is not a strong suit of hers. I had 3 loads of laundry to do. When I went down to get the first load out of the dryer, switch the 2nd load from the washer to the dryer, and start the third load, her laundry basket was sitting in the little laundry area. The first rule of doing laundry in a building where you are sharing one set of machines with all 8 apartments is don’t relinquish the machine until you’re done! I was honestly hoping to get my laundry switched and get back upstairs before she surfaced, but no such luck. She came down and asked if I had more “wash”. I said I had one more load, and then I’d be done. She wanted me to knock on her door and let her know when I was done. Now, the machines both have timers on the front of them to let you know how much longer they are going to run, and still I heard her leave her apartment about 7 times while I dried two loads of laundry to see if I was done yet. DUDE. If it says 60 minutes on the dryer, go back to your apartment, look at the clock and add 1 hour! Why is it so hard?

Anyways, enough complaining from me I want to get myself some dinner and get back on the couch to continue working on the blanket I’m crocheting. I need to get a picture of it to share now that it finally looks like I’m making progress!