I have a new man in my life. I have to drive to his place to see him, but it’s worth it. When I get there, he does my laundry. All of it. Every last sandy beach towel. And this morning, he welcomed me without hesitation.
I knew today would be a tough one. RG Daughter and her boyfriend left at the crack of dawn to wing their way back to D.C. I knew the apartment would feel empty, no matter how loud I cranked up my music. I knew I would want to stay in bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep away this back-to-reality day. But I didn’t. Instead, I forced myself to make a plan that included the necessary and the mundane.
–Go for a walk. Okay, go for a trudge, because my energy and heart wasn’t in it. But I did wend my way to the ocean, I nodded at the hot sand, and I turned around for home.
–Eat. On my day off, I tend to graze all day, food groups be damned. Thus, my breakfast: M&Ms, two slices of mozzarella cheese and a handful of rice crackers. My lunch: Lots of Tostitos corn chips and salsa con queso dip. Dinner: I promise to eat a salad, maybe some fruit.
–One errand. Decided to return a too small shower caddy to Bed Bath and Beyond. I exchanged it for a multi-colored beach chair instead of another shower caddy, because that’s what I wanted more. And I can use it when RG daughter comes back for more beach time.
–Deal with my lying sack-of-shit landlord. He called three times to tell me he will fix the wiring throughout the apartment, “Tomorrow. At 5 p.m. Okay? That’s good, yes?” He must have some incredible team of contractors who can rip down walls, re-wire the phone and cable lines, and have it all back up and painted and ready for action by the time I get home from work at 10 p.m.
–Deal with dealing with my landlord. Instead of screaming at him, I calmly told him I didn’t believe that it is possible for him to fix all the problems at 5 p.m. tomorrow. He said he would call me back. Meanwhile, who cares anymore about the lack of any working phone jacks for my DSL except one, and only one cable outlet that mostly gets a signal. I now have hot water. I have electricity in the bedrooms. I should be thankful to pay top dollar for that privilege, right? What’s another few hundred dollars for a wireless airport and a set of old-fashioned rabbit ears for the TV in the bedroom?
–Do laundry. See, I am supposed to have a laundry room in my apartment complex. I know it will come as a shock to all that it is not up and running. Thus, I had to track down a coin-op laundry that wasn’t 1) scary, 2) filled with scary people, and 3) disgusting, in general.
I followed signs off the main drag and that’s when I found him: Mr. Fabulous. No AC, but open walls on two sides and ceiling fans, plenty of washers and dryers, and a change machine that worked. Wash-and-fold services also available. What’s not to love about him? And the best part, his name is in lights–neon. I can’t wait to go back some evening and see if they really do light him up.
Because I have a feeling Mr. Fabulous and I are going to become fast and fabulous friends, all thanks to my landlord. May his (my landlord’s not Mr Fabulous’s!) house flood and his sporty Mercedes stall in a giant puddle the next time a massive thunderstorm blows through–say, tomorrow at 5 p.m.