A prayer for laundry

I'm trying to think about it rationally, though it's difficult when I'm this frustrated. I honestly think it's 80-90% of the time that I do laundry here, the app stops working, loses connection with my account or the machines, or crashes entirely. Yes, think about needing to use an app to do your laundry. If you are thinking to yourself that I need to just move already, I invite you to try to find an affordable apartment with a washer and dryer on your own. What's especially difficult is that others don't seem to have nearly the issues I do with this app, so I'm left with what appears to be more evidence that I am surrounded by some kind of cloud that prevents technology from working. There is detergent in the machine now, but the app isn't working at all, even after closing it 15 times, restarting the phone and even reinstalling the app. There is nothing to do but leave my soap in the washer and stop doing laundry- it doesn't matter that I have the time right now and no one is waiting. Did I mention that we have one washer and dryer for fourteen people? Are you familiar with the revulsion of having to pick other people's pubes out of the washer? I got so frustrated I had to lie down on the floor and breathe or I was going to throw my phone out the window. 

I am envisioning a clean, nice laundry room- not just a closet- but a room I can step into- one that has space for shelves and drying racks and cleaning supplies. Maybe it even has a sink. It's got a full size washer and dryer that require no coins or apps. I can just turn the machine on and let it run while I do other things. No one is calling dibs on next and I can leave home and not worry that I have to get back by the time the towels finish drying. I can leave baskets in the laundry room and even drop something on the floor without needing to wash it again. I don't have to put on shoes or presentable clothes or a coat to do laundry, and maybe I'll even join in on the 3-5 business days to put laundry away joke. I can do laundry any day or every day. Someday.

A little all over the place, but now shaded

I think I felt all the feelings today, but a lot of things happened.

The carport was finally repaired. It took seven months and in that time I received zero communication from the office despite my calls, emails, work orders, and visits. The maintenance guys were the only ones to talk to me about it and thankfully they told me work would be done today. They said it had been a nightmare for them to try to get it replaced and it took forever for the materials, so that explains the wait, but not the office's actions. Maintenance also said the office would send a notice about the work, but of course that didn't happen. I'd moved my car and the others were at work, so that worked out. 

I had a nice connecting talk with some coworkers, made progress on projects, and got let go by a nice yet unsure man I'd just started seeing. I appreciated him telling me, and it did seem as though he was unsure about many things in his life, so I wasn't surprised, but it was a little disappointing anyway. I can relate, because I usually feel unsure but I have gotten used to that, so I just try to make my way with that feeling, not expecting it to leave. 

I got some rough news yesterday and some rough news today, but today I was reminded of the Rashi quote, "Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you." It makes sense to me because there is often nothing to be done about it and it often turns out better than I thought it would. Yesterday I cried at the probability that I would have to redo a very painful procedure, and today it was disheartening news on the job front. The bearer of today's news saw my reaction and said not to get down by it but to trust in the bigger picture. I would love to be able to see more possibilities in my immediate reactions than just the bad news. I wonder if that is a conscious movement of perspective or seeing evidence over time.

Tomorrow is a different painful procedure, so perhaps it's fair that I am feeling dismayed. But tomorrow I get to have the I Don't Care meds, and I am looking forward to not giving a shit for a couple hours. Today my kind massage therapist brought my medic alert bracelet by after I'd forgotten it at her office several days ago. Discussing the biopsy, she said to look at it as though I was being core sampled, and that made me laugh. When the contractors were building the new carport, I brought out cold bottles of water and a Powerade- unsure again, thinking they probably had their own water, but they were very happy and grateful, so that was nice. And when they were gone, I moved my car into my shady carport, and my neighbors who live above it came rushing out to applaud. They have been such great supporters, lamenting the delay, chasing people out of my parking spot, and even making requests in the office on my behalf- asking them to at least mark my spot somehow until the carport was fixed. It was nice to celebrate with them!

And Sarah came to hang out tonight, so we ate some food, caught up, and looked at mens. She knows I can get reluctant to try. To take you on a weird analogy, it feels to me like when worms are stranded all over the sidewalk. I cannot bypass them to dry out and die, so I move them to the grass- every single one I find. When looking through potential people to meet, there are some definitely nots and some maybe, but most are probably perfectly fine people that I can't tell enough or don't feel any particular way about, but don't all those deserve a chance? I can't pick them all up off the sidewalk so I start to feel overwhelmed, but then Sarah and I look through together. I explain why I'm stuck on an arbitrary guy and she offers some practical point. I've also been watching Hoarders because it motivates me to 1) get rid of things and 2) get rid of things the way I'd like. The swiping exercise today had me thinking of Hoarders because I was stuck in a house of profiles I didn't know what to do with, and my organizer/psychologist showed up and now I'm cruising through, able to say keep or go. That was another unpleasant metaphor for dating. I'm going to have to wrench my perspective toward a more positive example.

Jennyway, my point was that many lovely things happened today too, especially because it's supposed to get very hot this weekend and I have a shady spot for the summer.

Groceries'll get ya

I get sad every time I leave Winco. Not inside- usually. Just outside when I push my cart into the parking lot and over the speed bump because it entertains me. That makes me think about Ant pushing the cart all crazy when he was little. Then I get sad and a little mad. I marvel at how long the people close to me have been married, and how they can really choose if they want to do things with friends or just be with their person. It makes me wonder if they ever think about that when weighing my invitations: I wonder if she’s lonely. I put my same groceries in the same car in the same parking lot for ten years. I try to see myself through Ant’s eyes now: still Jenny, still the same. I put the cart away and think about when Ant was always with me- when he was young enough to run everywhere. Returning the cart was his job, and he took it seriously. He would look both ways carefully, knowing I was watching. Then he’d push the cart all the way in to the corral and then jungle gym his way back out, dropping to the ground and running back across the lane, forgetting to look, me yelling at him to look, having already looked. Routine. We’d go home the same way, but now I go straight instead of turning right. I think about how alone I am. Ant has grown up. Riley’s gone. Daniel’s gone. Gus is gone. I’m still here.

Maybe I need a new grocery store, but it’s really more the other things: I need a new job, a new home, a new love story. Besides, have you BEEN to Winco? It’s lovely. I chose to come back to this area because of the sidewalks, the trees, the grass, the routes, and my beloved Winco. I don’t think I would feel so sad if anything had changed for me in all this time. I couldn’t have known that, and things will change. I like to think I am proactively grieving now so that I don’t have to do it when I put different groceries in a different car in a different neighborhood. Maybe writing this will help me stop feeling so lonely, and maybe one of these days I’ll walk into my home and someone will be in there making dinner. Let’s hope it’s someone I know, haha.