Words As Weapons, Sharper Than Knives...

There are few things in life that bring me joy. My purple divided laundry basket was one of those things. It was not your ordinary basket. It was the IKEA of baskets. It had this side pocket that worked out perfect for storing my soap, liquid softener, dryer sheets, stain stuff, 4 downy balls, the quarter container, whatever book I am reading, and my journal. It was the coolest thing. Tonight it attacked me. It lost, but I took a pretty savage beating out of the deal too.

Picture this.

I have an older car. A 1992 to be exact. Dess doens't like to start in the bitter cold winter mornings, so she gets plugged in at night to make my mornings a little easier. Well, this cord is run from the back porch to my parking spot. See where this is going yet?

So here I am stumbling out the door with my carefully stacked laundry baskets. Next thing I know, I am laying face down in a snow bank. My clothes are spread out all over my driveway. It's 10 p.m., so it's dark. I dust myself off only to notice that, Damn! My hand hurts like a bitch! I gather up my clothes from the driveway and see the handle to my basket broken off. FUCK! I go to pick it up and the bottom is all fucked up. Wonderful. Whatever.

I head on over to the laundromat, and to my delight it's just me and an old man. Awesome. Me and my iPod are gonna bond. Despite my hardest attempts to look unapproachable, I kept getting the shoulder tap.

This gentleman is 80. He hopes to live to be 100 (never gonna make it Pops, if you don't back the fuck off). He likes to shop at Goodwill, because after all, he lives in the country and he doesn't need to impress anyone.

Somewhere through the course of our very one sided conversation, the following statements were uttered.

"Well, how does your husband feel about that?"

"I'm not married."

"A woman in her 30's should really be looking for someone to settle down with. After all, you have to think about your children."

"I am 25. I have no children."

"Oh, you just seem like one of those girls (now I'm a girl, a second ago I was a housewife) who has a couple of kids."

Ok. So I know I am not married. Never ever been in any relationship worth mentioning. I am well aware that I am not a mother. I know that I look tired. But a married 30-something with kids. I must have looked like shit.