Laundry
I keep staring at my newly-painted hot pink nails. "Yes, they're real," as I tried to convince my cousin this evening. "I think the polish makes my nails stronger." "Extra coats," she responded.
Extra coats. I emptied out one of my suitcases taking up a storage space at my mom's condo this afternoon. I threw my Fall jacket into my laundry duffel bag, preparing myself for the colder weather we should expect for September and October.
It's been a hot summer. My summer fashions have found new suits. An old spaghetti-strap dress actually works as a skirt if you tuck the top in. Things I've discovered battling with the 30+ weather we've had for months.
Suddenly, it's cold out. I closed my balcony door for the first time since June, to try and let my air-drying laundry dry up. My clothes are still damp from last night. Should have done laundry Thursday. Whatever.
We all have to deal with laundry. And spin cycles. You just never expect to feel as though you're right inside the washer, being thrown around like your t-shirts and underwear. All underwear starts off with good intentions, don't they? Ha.
I'm sitting in my summer sublet in the Mile End. Two more sleeps before things bring me to a new home. A home familiar to me, but only temporary.
In August of last year I set out some clear goals for the year. And without going into detail, I obtained them. Bringing me to this point in time. Vials of nail polish, iron and cold beer surrounding this laptop, here I am. But I won't be for much longer.
My subletter explained to me how to get the washing machine going if it didn't cooperate. It's a gem, but from the 70s. Maybe 80s. Sometimes you have to go in and do a little "lift and spin" motion. Manually. And it'll get going.
As much ambition as you can have, sometimes an extra push comes along to secure your plans for the future, in a vast array of shapes and forms. And sometimes there's a golden ticket enticing you. Most of the time, there isn't. Just a pile of laundry you'd rather keep out of sight than to deal with.
I bumped into someone I hadn't seen in a while recently and they commented on how I hadn't posted on here in a while. It's true. I haven't. And I've wanted to, but sometimes you need the time to put your thoughts together before laying it all out there. How many times have you walked through a neighborhood alley and been grossed out by what you saw hanging from the clotheslines?
I'm in pursuit of education. I have less than a year to determine what the right course of action is for my life, and it's daunting. But so is that duffel bag of laundry I left at my mom's. It'll get done. On Tuesday, because I owe it to myself and to those within scent-proximity to wear clean clothes. :)
Sometimes things get dirty, and you'd rather ignore the mounting pile of denial you're dealing with, but to go through it and refresh yourself is so much more cleansing. Okay. It's so much more rewarding. My grandparents always hung their laundry on the clothesline. I crave the smell of their linen closet.
It's... needed. Tending to your needs. Not easy, and not always clear, but better do it than ignore it. Eventually someone is going to notice.
The Middle East (music),
Katie
Extra coats. I emptied out one of my suitcases taking up a storage space at my mom's condo this afternoon. I threw my Fall jacket into my laundry duffel bag, preparing myself for the colder weather we should expect for September and October.
It's been a hot summer. My summer fashions have found new suits. An old spaghetti-strap dress actually works as a skirt if you tuck the top in. Things I've discovered battling with the 30+ weather we've had for months.
Suddenly, it's cold out. I closed my balcony door for the first time since June, to try and let my air-drying laundry dry up. My clothes are still damp from last night. Should have done laundry Thursday. Whatever.
We all have to deal with laundry. And spin cycles. You just never expect to feel as though you're right inside the washer, being thrown around like your t-shirts and underwear. All underwear starts off with good intentions, don't they? Ha.
I'm sitting in my summer sublet in the Mile End. Two more sleeps before things bring me to a new home. A home familiar to me, but only temporary.
In August of last year I set out some clear goals for the year. And without going into detail, I obtained them. Bringing me to this point in time. Vials of nail polish, iron and cold beer surrounding this laptop, here I am. But I won't be for much longer.
My subletter explained to me how to get the washing machine going if it didn't cooperate. It's a gem, but from the 70s. Maybe 80s. Sometimes you have to go in and do a little "lift and spin" motion. Manually. And it'll get going.
As much ambition as you can have, sometimes an extra push comes along to secure your plans for the future, in a vast array of shapes and forms. And sometimes there's a golden ticket enticing you. Most of the time, there isn't. Just a pile of laundry you'd rather keep out of sight than to deal with.
I bumped into someone I hadn't seen in a while recently and they commented on how I hadn't posted on here in a while. It's true. I haven't. And I've wanted to, but sometimes you need the time to put your thoughts together before laying it all out there. How many times have you walked through a neighborhood alley and been grossed out by what you saw hanging from the clotheslines?
I'm in pursuit of education. I have less than a year to determine what the right course of action is for my life, and it's daunting. But so is that duffel bag of laundry I left at my mom's. It'll get done. On Tuesday, because I owe it to myself and to those within scent-proximity to wear clean clothes. :)
Sometimes things get dirty, and you'd rather ignore the mounting pile of denial you're dealing with, but to go through it and refresh yourself is so much more cleansing. Okay. It's so much more rewarding. My grandparents always hung their laundry on the clothesline. I crave the smell of their linen closet.
It's... needed. Tending to your needs. Not easy, and not always clear, but better do it than ignore it. Eventually someone is going to notice.
The Middle East (music),
Katie
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