So I realize I am drunk as fuck, and it’s almost four in the morning, but drunk or sober, I don’t agree with the word, ‘coincidence’. I am not sure whether I disagree with the word on a Universal level, or just on a Webster’s Definition level.
I just got home at this late/early hour, depending on your own work schedule/psychiatric diagnosis/drug-of-choice, and decided to do some laundry. Granted, it is indeed very unusual for me to “up and do chores” at four in the fucking morning, but my cat, Dickie Gimp Panther, was hurt this weekend and I had to doctor his neck, so I kept his black ass inside for the night, to keep him from fighting some more, and the motherfucker pissed on a blanket.
Now, I don’t know about you, but to me, CAT PISS IS ONE OF THE MOST HORRIBLE SMELLS GOD EVER CREATED.
I tried to ignore the smell most of yesterday, even though it literally slapped me in the face and made me call it’s name (in a dirty way) every time I walked down my hall or went in my living room. By like 6:00 PM I was totally fed up, even though I know a person goes nose-blind after fifteen minutes.
So, I get home, and go straight to the laundry room, because I went straight to my bed first and remembered all of my fucking bedclothes were currently located in the aforementioned room. Luckily there was a fitted sheet in the dryer, so I took those clothes etc. out and and started the washer for a new load.
I HAVE LITERALLY DONE AT LEAST FOUR HUNDRED FUCKING THOUSAND LOADS OF GODDAMN LAUNDRY IN MY LIFE…no shit. I have five kids and the last four (I really did) raise from birth to age 4,5,and 6, BY MYSELF, and, of course, my handy-dandy washing machine.
Nevertheless, the whole thing of me coming home at that hour and doing laundry was just straight-up weird.
Here’s where it gets weirder…
I started the washer and when I thought I was grabbing the detergent,I realized I actually grabbed the bleach and just poured that bleach all over my sheets and blankets that were already in there, before the water had a chance to cover them. One of the blankets was this really cool leopard print throw from Pier One, that I’ve had for ten years.
So, I grab up the throw and hold it under the still-running water, In a futile attempt to undo the UN-DOABLE.
I grab for the detergent again, and pour it in.
GODDAMN IT, I FUCKING BLEACHED MY SHIT AGAIN.
I guess…some things just need to be bleached.