Houston, we have a problem

If ever a picture was worth a thousand (unpleasant) words, here it is:

…and I dropped off two bags yesterday.

So this is what happens when you haven’t done your own laundry since July 2011.  (Apparently traveling home with dirty laundry in your suitcase when you visit mom doesn’t technically count…)  While I will admit that doing laundry is more cost effective than drop off, and that I like the fact it is socially acceptable to be dressed like a bum while doing said laundry, I still really hate doing it.  And by “really”, I mean hate isn’t a strong enough word for how much I despise it.  Unlike the last man in my life, who didn’t know the difference between a cheese grater and garlic press, future potential beaus are going to need to have an affinity, or at least tolerance, for getting the laundry done themselves.  Oh, and I’m going to assume that laundry detergent doesn’t go bad…considering I’ve been “using” the same bottle for almost three years.

Cheers to elevating myself above 20-something bachelor status this weekend though!  Even if I did have to bribe myself with the promise of blackout margaritas with a girlfriend tonight to make it here!