This Machine Is Broken.

If you know anything about me at all, you probably know that I'm a Sunday cleaner. Other than your basic maintenance type cleaning, I don't mess with any of it through the week. Hell, I work a full time job - ain't nobody got time to come home and damn clean everyday, nor do they have the desire. So yes, on Saturday - you better believe that my house is fucked. But, come Sunday - you better believe that my ass is up and working miracles. Except this past Sunday...

Due to an unexpected death in the family, we had to move Tesler's baby shower to Sunday. In turn, my house got no attention what-so-ever. I didn't even have time to do the first load of laundry. And serious business y'all, I can't afford to get behind on laundry. Not only do we have more laundry than seems humanly possible for 3 people to produce, but I absolutely HATE to do it. Hate the whole dag-blasted process! I had a truck load of laundry and absolutely no desire whatsoever to spend the next week wasting my life trying to catch it all up. Laundry makes me a grumpy girl...

Sunday night while laying in bed, my little light bulb ding-ding went off..."Hey babe! Tomorrow, let's pack all this up and go to the laundromat!" I said. "It will be so much easier and we can knock it all out at once!" I said. "This is the best idea I've ever had!"....no one said. 

Yesterday when I got home from work, we commenced gathering and sorting laundry. We took the throw blankets, stripped the beds, loaded everything up in the truck and wen't on about our adventure to the laundromat. We stopped for some Taco Bell, accidentally passed up the laundromat, ended up back around the McDonald's so we hit the drive thru for hot fudge sundays...and with yummy dessert in our bellies, we were ready to tackle the task at hand. 

Ten minutes later, there I stand...staring at the triple loader completely perturbed. The damn thing was 2/3 the size of the washer I have at home, and they seriously have the nerve to call it a triple loader?! I'm guessing that the double loaders are half the size?! At this point, I'm starting to pick up the message that they are putting down...and that message was "We're about to quarter rape you, you laundry hatin' bitch!" I actually thought about packing it all back out to the truck going home, but instead I inserted my 12 quarters...yes, count'em, $3.00...into a 2/3 loader and begin to sulk a bit. 

We loaded up 4 "triple loaders" for a grand total of $12.00, and two "maxi loaders" for a grand total of $8.50. And because I'm telling this story, I'm gonna tell you the whole story. As soon as the machines were loaded and started, the hot fudge sunday flared up my non-reliable lactose intolerance, and I was forced to go drop a deuce in the sketchy place. Surprisingly enough, the bathroom was clean and painted a very cheery yellow color...at least some of the quarters they were jackin' people for were being put to good use. The laundromat deuce wasn't as bad as I had predicted it was going to be, score one for them. 

I come out of the bathroom after about 10 minutes and the clothes are done. I know, right? I'm guessing that my clothes didn't get real clean during their 10 minute triple loaded cycle. At this point, I'm like FML - (fuck my laundry).

So, we gather up the soaking wet clothes that obviously didn't spin good, and we transfer them to the dryers...this is where I think I catch a break. The dryers only cost a quarter! Ooooooh, but woe is me, they fail to tell you that your quarter gets you SEVEN minutes in a dryer...that doesn't even warm up! Yes, this is for real! And what is also for real, is that Christopher thought it would be quite humorous to proclaim quite loudly that "the damn dryers didn't even get hot enough to kill our bed bugs!"....yeah, you just can't make this shit up! It happened. 

Christopher then goes outside to smoke, me and the boy plop down at the table trying to take it all in. I mean, I've not been to a laundromat since EBG's was a laundromat, and I don't remember it being this sucky. I remember pacman games and gumball machines, and watching the soapy water drain into the crevice behind the washers and run down the incline to the drain...come to think of it - their bathroom totally sucked worse than this one did. My brain stops there as I'm snapped back to reality, Damion says, "Jess, look at Dad!"...I turn around to find that Christopher, my knight in shining armor, has his ass cheeks pressed against the outside of the damn window and is not only mooning me, but all of the other laundromat patrons as well. He stays outside cracking himself over it for a minute, and comes back in totally amused that Damion got me with "the oldest trick in the book". He definitely "madest thou look." Suter shenanigans. Story of my life!

We're there for another hour or so, patiently feeding quarter after quarter into the dryers to no avail, the boys give each other wet willy's and fight over quarters, until we finally just give up and fold most of it damp. We load it all back up in the truck, and pack it all back in the house during a wind chill advisory. And now it sits patiently in my kitchen, and I have no earthly desire what so ever to put it where it goes.

On a good note, Damion says that if we can come up with one of those fancy laundry carts, that he'll start helping with laundry. He even said that he'd settle for a shopping cart. Now that I think back on it, I'm not quite sure why we didn't pull off a laundry cart heist as soon as those words came out of his mouth, and I'm half inclined to go on a cart robbery mission as soon as I leave work today. 

I know what I know, and I know that you're not gonna see this white girl in a laundromat ever again. Just like 75% of what they had to offer, "This machine is broken". :)

Speaking of small robberies, you should watch this clip. Actually, you should watch this whole movie. And then you should remember to thank me later. :)

((...refusing to give a fuck isn't just easy, it's kind of awesome...))

It's funny how sometimes I can look for days and find no motivation whatsoever to write, and then sometimes - I can literally trip and fall into something that makes my brain start to work. Well, don't look now...but my wheels are spinning. Shhh... :)

3 days into the new year, I have stumbled upon an article in my news feed called "14 Fucks I Refuse To Give In 2014"...now, isn't that quite the spin on things?! Just the title alone made me cock my head up sideways and raise an eyebrow. Instead of thinking of a dozen lame things that she should start doing to better herself in 2014, the writer thought of a dozen things that she could stop "giving a fuck about" in order to better herself in 2014. I was like, seriously...the girl is at least half genius. Just take a moment to think of all the petty shit we find ourselves tied up in all the time, and then think of how nice it would be to NOT have to deal with any of that petty shit again this year? Are y'all picking up what I'm putting down, here?

Anyhow, I read this article...Most of the things that she's decided to NOT do this year were things that I could totally get used to not doing myself. I'm tellin' ya...the girl is my kind of girl! I don't know that I can come up with 14 things of my own right off the top of my head on such short notice but this is definitely something I am going to put some thought into, in order to make this year better than the last. 

So, not to look as if I've done stoled this half genius girl's story - I'm going to copy and paste the things that she doesn't plan on giving a fuck about this year, that may very well apply to ol' Jcrow here as well. 

Becoming a Morning Person 

I’ve always hated mornings. I hate getting out of bed, hate getting out of the shower, hate finishing my coffee. I pretty much just hate everything and everyone who crosses my path prior to 10 am. I’ve tried to ‘fix’ this issue multiple times, trying to schedule in an hour of exercise or writing prior to embarking on my day. Fuck that. The only thing worse that getting out of bed in the morning is getting out of bed to torture yourself on a treadmill or stare at a screen. So keep all your “10 Things Successful People Do Before 5 am” motivational posts to yourself come 2014. I’ll be successfully asleep.

- the only thing I would add would be that I plan on going to bed early too. I love my sleep, and I require a lot of it. It's genetic, I can't help it...Amen, ol' girl. 

Fitting In

I suck at social situations. I’m awkward, withdrawn, quiet and quick to drop a sarcastic remark. I also sport a handful of tattoos, have an award-winning bitchy resting face, and have been told I give off a not-so-subtle fuck off vibe whenever I walk into a room. By no means am I trying to be standoffish, this is just who I am. So when it comes to fitting in at conferences, networking events, house parties, the supermarket — you know, anywhere there are other people — I tend to struggle. For years I’ve tried to fix this; forced myself to be more outgoing, more present, less me. It’s exhausting and annoying. So fuck fitting in. Despite my icy demeanor and lack of seemingly standard social skills, I’ve managed to surround myself with an accepting, loyal group of friends; people that understand my oddities and love me for them. Bitchy resting face and all.

- I can't think of a single word more to add to that one! If I had a beer and she had a beer, I'd request a slap of the cans!

Quitting Vices

 Why are New Year’s resolutions always about ending bad habits? Personally, I quite enjoy my vices. Beer = delicious. Pie for breakfast? Completely acceptable. Hoarding all of the blankets on the coldest night of the year? Not my fault you were too slow to steal them first. Everything in moderation, right? My bad habits have shaped me as much as my good ones. But at the end of the day, they aren’t really hurting anyone. I drink socially and with restraint, pie only finds its way into my fridge two or three times a year, and my boyfriend is more than welcome to yank the covers back over to his side… provided he’s ready to accept the consequences.

- y'all thought when I said half genius that I was playin', didn't ya?!

Swearing

My ex used to hate it when I would swear. And I get that — believe it or not, I’m not a huge fan of constant vulgarities either. That being said, some situations simply call for foul language. Come on, no one is going to stick to a Screw It list or an Eff It list. What’s more, studies have shown that people who swear are actually more trustworthy and honest. Which, by my count, means I’m kind of exceptional. Fuck it? Don’t mind if I do…

- this reminds me of story I heard about cute little Shaney the other day. Sometimes in life, you just gotta be able to get your point across effectively - and if that means dropping the

 f-bomb, then so be it! We're not babies!

Guilt 

Earlier this year I was told that guilt is the fear of future punishment. That we feel bad for past transgressions not just because we regret them, but because we’re worried that we’ll make the same mistakes again. I’m not entirely sure of the legitimacy of this statement, but it certainly resonated with me. I regret a lot in my life; I’ve made some foolish mistakes and have hurt a lot of people, not to mention myself. But it’s the fear of making these same mistakes again that weighs on me the most. And yet, the mistakes I made in the past were the result of dozens of different variables  -  age, health, circumstance  - repeating them is pretty much impossible. So why bother dwelling on it? Fuck the guilt; I can’t undo the past, but I can certainly look forward to the future.

- preaching to the choir, girlfriend! 

Lying to Myself 

We all lie to ourselves. Some of these lies are inconsequential. Others send us down a slippery slope of denial straight onto a soft cushion of false security. I’ve lied to myself a lot over the last year. I’ve told myself things are fine when they’re falling apart, convinced myself that a bad decision was a blessing in disguise. Thing is, it’s easy to tell the lie. Believing it is a whole other story. So fuck the fabrications and flimsy fronts. How can you possibly trust someone else when you can’t even trust yourself?

- I hope y'all are taking what I am taking from this. 

Growing Up

And give up my love of dinosaurs and LEGO? Fuck that.

- and gummy bears?! right on! 

Saving Relationships

Romantic, platonic, familial  -  I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to nurture destructive relationships. Compromising in order to avoid confrontation, pretending problems weren’t as pronounced as they were. The fastest way to lose yourself? Focus all of your energy on something or someone that was never really there. Eventually you’ll wake up alone. Worse, you’ll wake up a stranger.

- if your presence doesn't add value to my life, then your absence will make no difference! 

Forgetting Failures

I failed at being a wife. A lot of the time, I fail at being a daughter. I’m not a very good sister, and  I have a pretty good feeling the odds will be against me if I ever decide to become a mother.  I’ve failed at business, failed to relax while on vacation. I’ve failed to let insecurities go, failed to speak up when I had the chance. Fuck, I’ve failed myself more times than I’d care to admit. I’ve forgiven a lot of them. But forgetting them is useless. I made those mistakes for a reason. The least I can do is learn from them.

- I'm thinking I really need to have a cold beer with this girl, she speaks to my soul! I really hope that something here reached out and touched you a little. 

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Happy New Year, Y'all!

...may you give as few fucks as me and the half genius girl in 2014...