Ugh Agoraphobia I hate you. So here I am killing time but at least hoping this will serve to be cathartic in some way. I have three enormous bags of laundry, literally every article of clothing I own, every towel and nearly every pair of socks is crammed into those three bags. Oh yeah plus a basket of linens. It got out of control because I have started with an aversion to the basement, where our coin-op washer and dryer stands. For several reasons I hate going down there. One it's wet, there are huge puddles that have risen up through the floor and standing water in your basement is just gross. Two, the washer doesn't spin out properly, for $1.25 your clothes come out linty and wet. Three, the dryer takes two cyles @ $1.25 per pop, to thoroughly dry your wet laundry. Four, we have to share the machines with our downstairs neighbor, who thankfully doesn't generate much laundry but hangs her old lady unmentionables down there to dry. Eww. I feel strangely voyeuristic when I see them displayed on her rack. Gross again.
Plus I have this aversion to talking to anyone. When I am forced to I think I do pretty well, nod and smile, chit chat and escape but my insides are churning and my palms are sweating. I dread running into someone in the hall. Except there is no-one except her and she's rarely home.
I am horrified of talking to anyone at the Laundromat. I once picked up a psycho registered sexual offender, stalker, obscene phone call making exhibitionist. Who stole my underwear. I haven't been to a laundromat since and that was in 1999. Eleven years ago. Yeesh.
I attract psycho's everywhere that I go. Yes I do see the world as an unsafe place. I know. I know that it is not a healthy perspective or belief but it has proven itself to be true on many occasions and I hate that feeling of something going awry and getting dangerous.
So guess what? I'm going anyway. My trunk is packed, the detergent is in there, Liz is picking up Sara and we have no clothes left. Here goes nothing!