So... I promised my dear readers (all five of you) that I would tell them all about pioneer day. I will. I promise. Just not right now. Right now, I'd like to share a much more interesting tale... that happened about 5 minutes ago. There are no pictures for this experience (I know, I googled it). There shouldn't even be words. Well, here it goes.
In college there is this thing called laundry. If you are not in college yet and know how to go about doing this, thank your parents. You may hate them now(and no, I never hated my parents for making me do laundry) but they are doing you a HUGE favor.
So I discovered today that if I failed to complete my laundry tonight, I would not be able to go fully clothed to class tomorrow. I know, not a very difficult decision. So, as the responsible college student that I am, I waited until 9 o' clock to begin cleansing my mountain of filth.
So here I am in the laundry room, pushing my clothes through the washers and dryers provided by Brigham Young University. Luckily, they happen to be in the basement of my residence, so I get to chill in my room as I wait for them to finish.
My clothes had been washed and I ran down the stairs (or took the elevator...) to put my things in the dryer. I alternated between separating the non-dryer-friendly clothes from the others and carting my wet clothes across the room to the dryers that are considerably taller than I am. It was then that disaster struck.
Let me just interrupt and offer this advice: if you do not have good aim or a strong throwing arm, DO NOT THROW THINGS!!! It is imperative that you learn that lesson now. It will save you many embarrassing experiences. Now back to the story.
I was jamming out to my music on my iPod and as I was alone, I was singing (badly) along. The music got me jazzed and as I removed my favorite (and only) pair of jean shorts from the washer, I decided to make my life infinitely easier (hindsight's only twenty-twenty). So I tossed I jeans in the air, convinced that they would fly smoothly into the opening. Oh, foolish child!
Much to my dismay (I might have screamed a bit), the jeans arced over the dryer and hit the top, only to slide on the filthy, dusty surface behind the dryers. Did I mention that the dryers are taller than me? Like a foot or two? Yeah.... this was my face:
I immediately ran to the back of the dryers, praying by some miracle that there was enough room for my stick figure of a body to squeeze through - there wasn't. This past week, the temperatures have ALL been in the high 90s and low 100s. Did I mention that these were my ONLY pair of shorts? This called for desperate measures.
I looked around and my eyes immediately zoned in on the wheeled metal clothes cart (used to put unclaimed clothes in). I ran over to it and moved in front of the incriminating machines. It wasn't even half as tall as these gargantuan dryers. But I was desperate. So I climbed into this cart, praying hard that it would not roll away and began to carefully place myself upon the top edge of the cart. I grasped the top of the dryer, holding on for dear life and strained to plant a foot on any edge of the dryer. I found purchase and breathed a small sigh of relief. It was in this moment that I realized that the dryer could very easily tip over.... Yeah... I know... Nevertheless, I continued my brave ascent. I peeked over the top of the dryer and saw that it surface was black with dust. Gagging a bit I hauled my wimpy body onto the top of the dryer.
Having accomplished this much, thus far, my head whipped around to ensure that no one in the empty laundry room had seen that. Once my safety was assessed, I glanced over the other edge of the dryer. Miraculously, my jeans had not fallen far. I leaned over, all the while imagining myself becoming stuck behind the dryer forever. I reached my arm out and stretched as far as I could, squinting my eyes as I focused only on my shorts. When my fingers touched them I just about cried with joy. I pulled them to me victoriously and sat up again on the top of this demonic machine.
I then realized that I had to get down somehow. For a brief moment (or maybe a few minutes) I considered just setting up camp up there. I then realized that my food was in my kitchen and my kitchen was NOT on the top of the dryer. So I threw my jeans into the offending machine, so that they at least could be clean and dry, and laboriously began to lower myself ever so slowly to the edge of my dryers mouth. Having accomplished this, I began to lower myself back to the lovely, wheeled metal cart... that I had pushed away from my dryer in my ascent. With images of my sweet self being crushed underneath a tipped over monster filling my mind again, I stretched my toes out praying that I might find that cool metal.
Since I am currently typing this in the safety of my hallway, you, dear readers, can assume that I made it safely. I started the load and ran upstairs with my dryer sheets and wet Downeast undershirts to write this blog. Learn from this children.... and if its too late for that - at least get a good laugh at it.
I need to go get my (hopefully) dry clothes now.
Good Night!
Becca
