Day Eleven: Laundry Day (The deep breath before the plunge)

Eight days without Internet in my room.

It’s the beginning of my long weekend. I have May 24 (Thursday) through May 28 (Monday) off. I really hope I do not run out of things to occupy my time. I’m too close to the end to lose it now.

Today’s activity was laundry. I made it almost two weeks without having to locate a Laundromat and lug around my dirty laundry, and if it weren’t for my need for dress socks, I would’ve made it longer. But unfortunately I only packed six pairs of dress socks, and I’ve had six days of work so far, so it was time to do laundry.

Thankfully, the Laundromat the nice lady at the front desk directed me to wasn’t too far away. So I gathered my dirty clothes into my worn blue laundry sack and walked the four blocks down Broadway to 67th street.

I have to say, I really liked the Laundromat. It was, in my opinion, appropriately called “Excellent Cleaners.” 67th street was pretty quiet in the middle of the afternoon and the place – in the basement of some apartment building – wasn’t busy at all. There were a couple other patrons while I was there, but I didn’t have to wait for machines or anything. There was also this really great food truck a block over that sold pizza two slices for $3. I really hope it’s not the only one of its kind.

The cost was more than I pay at home, but that’s to be expected, given this is Manhattan and all.

This is probably going to sound really creepy but while I was waiting for my laundry to dry, I started thinking about other people’s laundry. Do they think the same things about their own laundry as I do mine? Like, I know my favorite underwear and the ones I always leave until I have no other pairs. There are always the couple articles of clothing I forgot I’d worn recently. There’s the thought every time I do laundry of “I really hope those t-shirts don’t shrink too much.” And what would happen if I lost every piece of clothing I own and had to restart from scratch. What would I buy? What would I replace, and what wouldn’t I? Would I feel guilty not replacing some items? Doing laundry is an existential experience sometimes.

I’m a little sad I’m most likely not going to go back to that Laundromat. I’m moving out of this building in eight days and I really don’t think I’ll need to do laundry before that. Maybe I will my last night here or something, just for the hell of it. Or because I don’t really have room to pack dirty laundry.

Shorter post tonight, because my last few ones have been too long apparently (Fuck you, Joe).

Starting tomorrow, I will no longer be alone in Manhattan. Thank god. Misery loves company.

-Ben Cosman