Tonight I sat on the laundry room floor, huddled up in a ball, staring inside our washing machine while it spun our clothes around and made weird noises.

Husband: “What are you doing down there?”
Me: “It’s making weird noises.”

And this is when it occurs to me I will probably never be in a position where owning a home is a good idea. All those Pinterest boards about home decor, furniture, storage and organization can probably just be put aside — to be shared with friends because God only knows putting any of them to use in a place I own will lead to more fetal positions and probably some horse tranquilizers to boot.

In my defense, I’ve never owned a high efficiency washer, or even one that was front loading, and after the delivery man breaking our dryer vent and our discovering the washing machine draining tube was too short, not to mention our having to wait till the landlord could come around till today to fix things (people who have things to do and busy schedules — what’s up with that?), I was skeptical that the growing mountain of laundry in our bathroom was never going to be traversed. It was like the idea of a washing machine and dryer was just that — an idea — and we’d never actually have them to actually use.

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So when we returned from Lowe’s, and Husband did some washing machine/dryer rock climbing, and we luckily discovered we DID have high efficiency laundry soap, and I started to sort out what I’m fairly certain was over 100 pieces of dirty laundry (which smelled awesome, btw, you’re welcome for that thought), it was only natural, I think, for me to react in such a manner. Plus, our washing machine. It was making weird noises. It was spinning our clothes around without water for awhile. It locked and wouldn’t let me in. I don’t know if I can trust a washing machine that won’t let me reach in, whenever I want, to see if the hot water is actually hot.

Because sometimes you just gotta reach in your washing machine. Is all I’m saying.

There’s something very horrifying at the thought that, supposing something were to go wrong in a home we owned, we couldn’t call someone else to take care of it, for free. When I read an email from our previous landlord, letting us know we were the best tenants they’d ever had in their 20+ years of apartment ownership and to let him know if there was anything he could do to help us in the future, I wondered if that also covered getting us out of any trouble that might befall us … for the rest of our lives.

If that’s on the table, then I will totally take him up on the offer.

(Pause here, with Husband pausing the DVR)

I’m sorry — I had to pause just then because our washing machine just played a monophonic song for us. Seriously — a whole song letting us know the load was finished. That’s not going to be annoying in the future. Perhaps I should ensure my body clock instinctively knows when all the laundry is finished so I never have to turn the signal on again. For eternity.

Also, as a totally unrelated side, G4 recently aired an old Batman movie marathon, and since we have a shiny new DVR and about 1,000 channels, it only made sense that we record all of them and then watch them while eating cookies. Yeah, you heard me — cookies. Anyhow, the movies we’ve seen thus far have raised a lot of questions, like why is there a midget hanging out with a bunch of bikers? And why are all of them wearing copious amounts of stage makeup? And why would Batman have ice skate blades in his boots? And didn’t anyone notice how Batman’s lips went from obscenely full to nearly nonexistent?

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But most importantly, why didn’t Tom Hardy play THAT Bane? Because that Bane is clearly the more superior.

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Seriously, you guys. So legit.

Husband, just now: “Wooooow. I can see why the Batman franchise took 12 years off.”


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