Monday, December 13, 2010

dear washer and dryer,

the other day my challenge was to write about the relationship i had with my washer and dryer. 
i set it aside and eventually forgot all about it until laundry day, a.k.a the day in which i face adversity. 

so naturally, i wrote a letter to washing maching # 8 and dryer # 22.

            Allow me to be blunt. I love you. I adore you. Without you I cannot live comfortably. I would be stale; I would have an odor of decay about me, as if I was dying without you. I think about you all the time, wondering when I will be able to see you. Sometimes we’ll meet after my afternoon class, other times late at night when the rest of the complex leaves to engage in nights of debauchery, leaving us alone. But alas! You run so cold and hot! There are moments when I feel as if I am the only girl in the world. But then there are the days when I feel as if you do not even remember who I am. I walk in and see all of these people using you, talking to you, but yet you stay with them, those that do not respect you, they sit on you and leave you messy and in disarray. They don’t love you like I do, but I feel as if you won’t make room for me, so I leave. Have you no soul? Do you not understand the mind of a teenage girl? All of this switching back and forth has done a number on my heart.  I run a few more miles on the treadmill, fix my hair, finish the rest of my textbook assignment, wash dishes, bake muffins, and get an update on the political ticker. I do anything that would make me more appealing to you when I return. Because I always return. Rather than ignore me, you jeer at me. You disagree on everything that I say. I say hot, you say cold. I want brights and you want wool. You refuse to work, you yell at me incessantly, you burn and shriek and gnash your teeth.  I resort to kicking and screaming, hoping that you would open up to me. You make me wonder why I stay with you, why I couldn’t will myself to walk out the door and never see you again. But you are not a friend that I can delete on Facebook. I can’t leave you. You have what I need, what I’ve been longing to get back all day.  You finally stop, once we realize how silly we look. I walk out the door, knowing that time will heal all wounds and I will forget how difficult you are just in time to go through it all again. 

this is how doing the laundry makes me feel. 

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