Laundry day
The final “first” at my new apartment happened today when I started my laundry in the complex’s two-washer, two-dryer laundry room. Right now my first load is in the dryer and a second is being washed.
I’ve blogged a lot recently about my new digs, and with good reason. Moving is unsettling (literally and emotionally) and it takes time to become acquainted with a new home. I lived in Apartment C for over a year and a half and had developed a comfortable routine, which meshed well with my roommate’s. But a new apartment and new roommate means slight changes to my habit, and I have to adapt to my new environment.
Laundry day for me is Sunday. My old roommate had his own washer and dryer in our little garage so there was no need to haul a hamper full of dirty clothes to a Laundromat and bother with coin-op machines. It was free and I could go inside and do what I wanted. I threw a load in the washer, walked back to my apartment, returned a half hour later to transfer everything to the dryer, went back to reading or — shamefully — watching TV, and retrieved my snuggle-soft duds an hour later. Easy and painless, and both machines featured timers so I knew exactly how long each load would take.
But that was at Apartment C. Apartment 10 is a different story.
The obvious difference is that everyone in the complex uses the same facility. There are 12 apartments and I assume at least two people live in each. That means there is a pair of washers and a pair of dryers for 24 people. It’s no biggie — my floor at the Mayflower was probably home to 100 people and the little laundry room at the end of the hall had two washers and two dryers — but I assume on some Sunday the machines won’t be readily available as they were today. (I don’t think a lot of people are as regimented as I am, scheduling a few of my weekly tasks only on certain days. A lot of people, I bet, do laundry whenever they run out of things to wear. My old roommate did laundry once a month when his supply of clean clothes reached critical mass.) At my old place I did laundry at dinnertime, but today, since I didn’t know if the machines would be available later, I started my laundry around 1 p.m. when no one was using them. It will take some getting used to, and there will be some variation from week to week, but I’m perfectly fine with it. Variety, as one of my friends loves to say, is the spice of life. (Spice in my laundry, though, doesn’t sound cool.)
Another big difference: the machines are coin-ops. I haven’t used coin-operated washers and dryers since I was in the dorm seven years ago. Each use costs a buck, so I had to pour out a pile of coins from my spare change bottle and find eight quarters. I wonder who pockets the laundry money here.
Here’s another difference: my roommate had an efficient, front-loading washing machine, but the washers at my new place are all top-loaders. My bottle of double concentrated Xtra (it’s ghetto, but I like it) is specially made for front-loading machines because they use less water, so the measurements are not translatable for use in top-loading machines. How much do I use? That will take a few attempts to perfect, but thank God that bottle is almost empty.
No timers, either, so I had no clue when everything would be done. According to my roommate (who’s been lying on the couch watching that pro football league all day) the washers take a half hour and the dryers 45 minutes. With that timetable in mind I periodically checked and waited to make my transfers.
Ah — my laundry is done for another week. One thing about a community laundry facility is it’s a great place to meet your neighbors. While figuring out the washer for the first time I met Ron who lives in Apartment 5. Apparently there was no hot water so he started hitting a box on the giant hot water heater in the laundry room.
“I don’t know why but this always seems to make it work,” he said.
I’ve blogged a lot recently about my new digs, and with good reason. Moving is unsettling (literally and emotionally) and it takes time to become acquainted with a new home. I lived in Apartment C for over a year and a half and had developed a comfortable routine, which meshed well with my roommate’s. But a new apartment and new roommate means slight changes to my habit, and I have to adapt to my new environment.
Laundry day for me is Sunday. My old roommate had his own washer and dryer in our little garage so there was no need to haul a hamper full of dirty clothes to a Laundromat and bother with coin-op machines. It was free and I could go inside and do what I wanted. I threw a load in the washer, walked back to my apartment, returned a half hour later to transfer everything to the dryer, went back to reading or — shamefully — watching TV, and retrieved my snuggle-soft duds an hour later. Easy and painless, and both machines featured timers so I knew exactly how long each load would take.
But that was at Apartment C. Apartment 10 is a different story.
The obvious difference is that everyone in the complex uses the same facility. There are 12 apartments and I assume at least two people live in each. That means there is a pair of washers and a pair of dryers for 24 people. It’s no biggie — my floor at the Mayflower was probably home to 100 people and the little laundry room at the end of the hall had two washers and two dryers — but I assume on some Sunday the machines won’t be readily available as they were today. (I don’t think a lot of people are as regimented as I am, scheduling a few of my weekly tasks only on certain days. A lot of people, I bet, do laundry whenever they run out of things to wear. My old roommate did laundry once a month when his supply of clean clothes reached critical mass.) At my old place I did laundry at dinnertime, but today, since I didn’t know if the machines would be available later, I started my laundry around 1 p.m. when no one was using them. It will take some getting used to, and there will be some variation from week to week, but I’m perfectly fine with it. Variety, as one of my friends loves to say, is the spice of life. (Spice in my laundry, though, doesn’t sound cool.)
Another big difference: the machines are coin-ops. I haven’t used coin-operated washers and dryers since I was in the dorm seven years ago. Each use costs a buck, so I had to pour out a pile of coins from my spare change bottle and find eight quarters. I wonder who pockets the laundry money here.
Here’s another difference: my roommate had an efficient, front-loading washing machine, but the washers at my new place are all top-loaders. My bottle of double concentrated Xtra (it’s ghetto, but I like it) is specially made for front-loading machines because they use less water, so the measurements are not translatable for use in top-loading machines. How much do I use? That will take a few attempts to perfect, but thank God that bottle is almost empty.
No timers, either, so I had no clue when everything would be done. According to my roommate (who’s been lying on the couch watching that pro football league all day) the washers take a half hour and the dryers 45 minutes. With that timetable in mind I periodically checked and waited to make my transfers.
Ah — my laundry is done for another week. One thing about a community laundry facility is it’s a great place to meet your neighbors. While figuring out the washer for the first time I met Ron who lives in Apartment 5. Apparently there was no hot water so he started hitting a box on the giant hot water heater in the laundry room.
“I don’t know why but this always seems to make it work,” he said.
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