G-d doesn't want me to have clean clothes
(as evidenced by the following):
(as evidenced by the following):
Yesterday, I decided I would do laundry. I went up to the laundry room with my barrage of keys, but, sadly, none of them opened the door. Later in the day, I went to the leasing office and asked them which key I should be using. Apparently, I didn't have the appropriate key, so they gave me a new one. Armed with the correct key, I went back up to the laundry room (all the way on the other side of the hallway and up a flight of stairs. Uphill both ways) with my laundry and detergent in tow. Upon opening the door, I realized the machine required to purchase a laundry card was not, in fact, in every building. I went back downstairs and decided I would walk over to the leasing center to buy a card. After walking around for 30 minutes, I managed to find the giant laundry room. I couldn't actually get into the building. Eventually, a kind person opened the door. I was thwarted yet again. The card machine in this building was out of order. I walked around the complex aimlessly until I finally found my apartment. Determined to have clean pants, I went out to my car, intent on driving to the leasing center. I found the map of the complex and learned that the leasing center was, in fact, less than five minutes from my apartment on foot. Finally, I get to the card machine to see that it needs exact change and does not take $1 bills. Well fan-freaking-tastic. I exchanged my $1 bills for a $5 bill and purchased my card. Ah, yet again, it needed exact change and I could do 1.25 loads of laundry with the money I had loaded thus far . . . or so I thought. 1.5 hours after my initial trip to the laundry room in my building, I actually made it in to the laundry room with the currency needed to operate these appliances. Figuring, as a technician, I should surely be able to start a washing machine without much difficulty or instruction. But, no, not so much. I learned that there were two different kinds of laundry machines, both of which defy logic. After about 5 minutes of screaming and cursing, I finally got the damned thing to work. So, yeah, pretty sure G-d hates hygiene.
G-d doesn't want me to have dinner
(as evidenced by the following):
(as evidenced by the following):
I have a severe lack of funds right now, so I brought dinner from home with the express purpose of having it today. It required hot water. Hot water is generated by a) Stove or b) Microwave. Clearly choice 'a' was not an option, but choice 'b' required a receptacle for the water. After much searching, I settled for a paper cup that had been used to hold straws and such. After washing it out several times, I heated the water in the microwave (I may not be a great cook, but I can operate a microwave, damnit). I took the noodles out of their vacuum sealed pack and dropped them in the bowl. Only the bowl was the floor. And that floor is really gross. Forget the 10 second rule, you wouldn't even want to do a 1 second rule in this place. I took the last bit of cash I had with me and went to Noodles & Co. Wouldn't you know that the only time I've paid with cash in the last three years is the one time the cash register breaks. Five minutes later, they finally got the cash register working, so I went to get my free drink. I sat around for another few minutes and saw all the people who were in line behind me get their food. Curious, I asked if my order made it through. Umm, oops - it's been sitting on the counter for the last five minutes.
Seriously, G-d, I get the point, but I'm pretty sure my therapist is going to be none-to-pleased with this. Let's split the difference - I'll wash my clothes but won't use the dryer, and will bring lunches if (and only if) I have the utensils to enjoy it. Deal?
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