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OMG! TMI! Cut for girly stuff
So today I am off work because I am running about like a crazy person to get all the stuff done that needed to get done before I leave at o'dark thirty tomorrow morning.
I am racing around in my "needs to do laundry" clothes (you know the ones, what is left in your closet when everything else is in the laundry, mismatched underwear, sports bra (black) granny-panties whose elastic is half-shot (dark pink) a long sleeve shirt and sweats. You're wearing a halloween orange hair tie, a black baseball cap because whose gonna see you, right? and your oldest sneakers. You're also kinda broken out because, hello, your period is two days late, and you're pretty stressed. No makeup)- and I am also PMS-ing, feeling pretty gross.
I go to the post office, the library, return movies, pick up snacks, and go to the laundromat because my dryer is still busticated and I need the half of my wardrobe that is getting packed into a suitcase clean to be able to do so. I go in and take three washers, and set my laundry going. I take the time it is washing to go down the street an pick up a couple of pharmacy items I need to pack. I get back as my first to loads finish spinning. I set them in the dryer and a young man is just starting his loads of laundry next to my third and final load.
I start to read the book I picked up for the plane.
He goes and sits down. He comes back in fifteen minutes to ask me if I knew how long the washers take to wash. He goes back and sits down. He comes back a few minutes later and starts to talk to me. He seems like a nice enough fellow, so I talk back.
The washer my final load is in sucks, and doesn't spin well. I put it back on to try to get the copious suds out of the clothing. He transfers his wash to the dryers, and we keep talking. He just came back from a conference in Orlando, I am about to go to one in Vancouver. His name is Carlos, I learn. He moved here from California a year ago. He loves movies. He wanted to know what my boyfriend thought since I was about to go away for ten days.
o.O! I am Queen Oblivious from the Planet Clueless. He's chatting me up!
I admit to not having a boyfriend. We talk some more. Keep in mind I am feeling scrubby, and looking my most unattractive. He gives me his phone number when he leaves. I give him an email address and my cell number. Wow. He seems like a nice guy. And what an ego-boost! Maybe I'll call him. Maybe he'll email me.
On to finish packing all my shit for tomorrow!
So today I am off work because I am running about like a crazy person to get all the stuff done that needed to get done before I leave at o'dark thirty tomorrow morning.
I am racing around in my "needs to do laundry" clothes (you know the ones, what is left in your closet when everything else is in the laundry, mismatched underwear, sports bra (black) granny-panties whose elastic is half-shot (dark pink) a long sleeve shirt and sweats. You're wearing a halloween orange hair tie, a black baseball cap because whose gonna see you, right? and your oldest sneakers. You're also kinda broken out because, hello, your period is two days late, and you're pretty stressed. No makeup)- and I am also PMS-ing, feeling pretty gross.
I go to the post office, the library, return movies, pick up snacks, and go to the laundromat because my dryer is still busticated and I need the half of my wardrobe that is getting packed into a suitcase clean to be able to do so. I go in and take three washers, and set my laundry going. I take the time it is washing to go down the street an pick up a couple of pharmacy items I need to pack. I get back as my first to loads finish spinning. I set them in the dryer and a young man is just starting his loads of laundry next to my third and final load.
I start to read the book I picked up for the plane.
He goes and sits down. He comes back in fifteen minutes to ask me if I knew how long the washers take to wash. He goes back and sits down. He comes back a few minutes later and starts to talk to me. He seems like a nice enough fellow, so I talk back.
The washer my final load is in sucks, and doesn't spin well. I put it back on to try to get the copious suds out of the clothing. He transfers his wash to the dryers, and we keep talking. He just came back from a conference in Orlando, I am about to go to one in Vancouver. His name is Carlos, I learn. He moved here from California a year ago. He loves movies. He wanted to know what my boyfriend thought since I was about to go away for ten days.
o.O! I am Queen Oblivious from the Planet Clueless. He's chatting me up!
I admit to not having a boyfriend. We talk some more. Keep in mind I am feeling scrubby, and looking my most unattractive. He gives me his phone number when he leaves. I give him an email address and my cell number. Wow. He seems like a nice guy. And what an ego-boost! Maybe I'll call him. Maybe he'll email me.
On to finish packing all my shit for tomorrow!
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