Raising Bipolar

Yesterday I went to the laundromat as our dryer has pretty much pooped out and now takes 3 rounds of effort just to dry a load of clothes.   And the clothes were really starting to pile up over here so it was getting to a critical mass that I do something about it.

Normally I would not be so thrilled with such a venture but I have to say, sometimes going to the laundromat is just a really pleasant experience.    There’s just something about the large open space of it, the emptiness and sterility of the building (ours is empty because it’s big and in a small town), the whirring sound of the machines going, the smell of laundry detergent and knowing that things are being cleaned at that exact moment you sit and wait.  And then the best part, the satisfaction of knowing you can go in there with 5 loads of laundry that have been sitting in your house just collecting grossness and taunting you with their incredible ability to rapidly grow in size and an hour and a half later come out with all of them clean and folded and ready for the week to come.  Ahhh…it really is satisfying.

And it’s not just the building and the environment that are satisfying.  The people are so interesting as well.  I’m always intrigued with the people I see there.  Why are they there?  What is their life like?  What are they doing when they leave?  Etc., etc.

Anyway, yesterday as I was waiting for my clothes to wash I decided to walk down to the Shell station to get a snack.  For whatever reason the whole experience was reminding me of my early childhood in Texas and was making me want a coke and some whoppers.  Or a coke and some cherry sours.  You know, the kind of snack you’d have as a kid.  And no, I have not kicked my sugar addiction yet so off to get the snack I went.   While in the Shell I go pick out my snack and am checking out and I hear the checkout lady say, “Hi Tia”.  I have my back turned so I can’t see behind me but we live in a small town and really how many Tias are there in the world.  So I worry.  Oh no, I’m having such a relaxing time.  I really don’t want to run into anyone I know.   Especially someone that was part of a mom’s group I used to be a part of that was a horrid experience I won’t engage in again (note to self: I don’t make a good mom’s group member).  But it’s a small town.  And it’s hard to go anywhere without seeing someone you know once you’ve been here a while.   And sure enough as I stand there with my super sugary snack and my change, here comes Tia.  Yea.

We exchange pleasantries and despite the fact that I have not seen this woman in at least 6 months and barely knew her to being with, within 2 mintues she is telling me about her awful husband and how she is so glad to be out of the house and away from him.  Really, all I can think is I don’t want to know .  And yet she goes on.  Oh Joe this and Joe that.  She tells me how she just hates it when he’s home and what a dud he is (which makes the assumption, of course,  that she is just super cool and way beyond him) and why doesn’t he just move out, etc.  Never is there a mention that although poor Joe the dud is a real drag, he does work and pay the bills so that Tia can stay at home and make a full time hobby out of complaining about him.  As well as be a stay at home mom to their 3 children.  But apparently that’s not a part of the equation here.  She tells me how she’s doing photography on the weekends now.  She never mentions if she’s still drinking herself into an oblivion on the weekends or not, which is where she was the last time I saw her.  But I guess that’s neither here nor there since it’s clear now that Joe is the real problem. Oh yes, it’s all his fault.  With that I was beginning to feel a real sense of  agitation so I stated that I needed to get back to my laundry and made the quick escape.   Yea, good to see you too.  Sorry your life sucks and you’re too cool for your husband and yada yada yada.  Over and out.

I walked back to the laundromat and regrouped.  I moved my clothes to the dryers and ate my snack.  Ahh…sugary goodness.  Clean clothes tumbling in the dryer getting fluffy and wonderful.  Still, hypnotizing whirring noises.  The smell of cleanliness and hope for the week to come.

Yes, the laundromat is good.

The Shell station, well that’s a different story.