Laundry Days to Remember

I arose this morning with a sense of purpose and passion. Today, I would clean my room so that my new freshman roommate would not think me a horrible slob when she finally came. Passion and purpose for a task are very necessary -- especially on Saturday mornings. First task of the day was to do my laundry because a lot of my clothes have been in storage this summer and storage just smells funky.

First off, I put my clothes in the washing machine, changed my dollar bills into quarters, came back in and started the machine. Then I looked over at the machine beside me. Why was my laundry detergent sitting on top of that washer? Weird. OH MY GRACIOUS!! I had started the wrong machine! So I ripped the door open, dodged the water spilling out of it (because it had already started its cycle) and hurried to put my clothes in the right washing machine.

Whew. Close call there. But wait, there's more! Who knew laundry days could be so exciting?

I went down to take my clothes out of the dryer after they had been drying for 30 min. I open the door, pull out some clothes, and then . . . THE VILEST OF ALL CREATURES EMERGED FROM THE DRYER TO ATTACK ME!!!!

It was a COCKROACH. A cockroach that was either living in the dryer, or had been living in my barrel with my clothes. I don't know where its most recent dwelling place had been, but I swear it had been formed in the very fires of Mordor because nothing, I repeat, NOTHING was going to kill that thing. I tried. But flip-flops are no weapon against something that nasty, that disgusting, that EVIL. I was no match for its powers of revulsion. The thoughts of such a creature existing in the same building as me still send shudders down my spine. The laundry rooms of Gaston will never be the same for me again.

And thus ends my tale of woe. Beware the day of the laundry.