I swear to god, people in this town just don't have any FUCKING BRAINS.
Mom and I currently have no washer and dryer. This is because the house had no w/d when we moved in, and the set we bought is sitting in the garage at the other house, waiting for our basement to be clean enough to be installed.
We also have no shower, because the plumbing dates back to 1910 and is disintegrating before our very eyes.
This pisses me off as well, but is not really part of today's rant.
Because of our lack of w/d, we must go to either our tenant's house to do laundry, the laundromat, or I have to do it while at work, using work's machines.
Well, after a few fiascoes with doing my laundry at the tenant's place (read: they thought it belonged to the previous tenant so they threw it in the garbage, then when they fished it out and said they'd wash it again and throw it in the dryer, they just left it in the washer to get moldy, and so I threw it in the dryer, but no one had told me there was no dryer vent and so their paint job was ruined, at which point I said "I'm never fucking doing this again" and stopped going up there to do my laundry) my mom assured me it was "safe" again to do my laundry there.
So I go up and put my load in.
As I'm leaving the husband comes out and I tell him that I've just put a load in, and I'll be back later to put it in the dryer and put my second load in the washer, is that cool?
"Sure."
"Cool. Then I'll be back after I'm done at the gym."
I come back after the gym.
They are no longer home.
My laundry is in its hamper, in the car port, with the detergent next to it. The wet clothing has been put into a plastic bag and is sitting on top of the dirty dry clothing in the hamper.
WHAT. THE. MOTHER. FUCK.
Did I imagine that whole conversation? Did you really tell me to shove it up my ass and I just didn't catch that part? WHY THE FUCK CAN YOU PEOPLE NOT GET IT INTO YOUR HEAD THAT I NEED MY CLOTHES TO BE CLEAN FOR WORK?
So I take the laundry home, too angry to even speak.
I go and buy clothespins and a shit load of ice cream.
And I hang the wet clothing on the line.
And here's the fucking kicker:
they didn't even let the cycle finish. One shirt was still half dry, and the rest were soaking wet.
It bothered them SO FUCKING MUCH they had to stop it beginning-mid-cycle. Couldn't let it finish. No. Had to stop NOW.
And people wonder why I'm a homicidal nutcase.
