Saturday I forgot a souvenir cup. Yesterday/Sunday I forgot to use Seafoam on an empty tank of my parents' minivan. And last/Monday night -- I'm such a stupid fucker -- I washed my delicates with my regulars. Yeah-yeah, maybe some of you don't give a shit. But I do.
Moreover, I spent a few minutes in the evening separating all my dirty clothes on whether they need to be washed warm or cold, dried medium or low, or treated delicately or not. What I usually do is put my delicate wash cold/dry low pile right next to my wash cold/dry low in separate piles. I want to know that they pretty much are the same, but some of them are delicates and some are not. OK, that might not make any sense. I sorted them out on the hallway right outside my bedroom, and so I don't have much space. That usually doesn't confuse me. Usually, I know that if I decide to wash my wash cold/dry low clothes, like I did last/Monday night, I would pick up that pile and just that pile. But last/Monday night ... fuck, maybe I was thinking about other things? It appears as though I picked up both piles and regarded them as just one big pile. And I even looked at the pieces of delicates -- which, to be honest, were just two pieces of long underwear -- and thought to myself, "Huh, do I want to wash these?" as I was putting them into the washing machine, and I didn't even think to stop myself. It was only when I ran upstairs and seeing no piles where I thought I would see one small pile that I realized I combined the two and washed those delicates like they were regular clothes. You know, like a dumbass.
I don't think that I've ruined the delicates after I washed them regular. To make up for it, I dried them delicately, whatever that means. Besides, when Father washes my clothes, he throws all the colored clothes together, delicate or not, so I'm sure all my thermals have been washed regularly before, and they all seem to be holding up given their age. So why should I freak out if I washed them incorrectly this one time? Well, besides me intending not to launder them only to completely chuck that out the window not an hour after I separated them ... and knowing that this is the third straight day when I completely lost my bearings which turned into a blown opportunity ... eh, not much, I guess.
I'm going to develop Alzheimer's when I'm old, I fuckin' know it.
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Well, not to use this as an excuse, but I have what I consider to be a tough two days at work. This/Tuesday morning I will be opening packages, and goddamn, lifting bags and possibly putting my hands in piss for two hours will not be good for my heart. And then tomorrow/Wednesday afternoon I am scanning, and I never feel as though I am scanning fast enough, at least fast enough for some people (cough, cough). Oh, maybe it's just all my head, like that Florence Pugh main character in Fighting With My Family where she has a bad rehearsal and is screaming at a bunch of women who she thinks is talking shit about her, only to find out after she confronts them that one of those women is just talking about the child she left at home. Yeah, maybe I'm paranoid. Or, I hope I'm paranoid. Fuck it, I just want to make it through these next two days without having either a panic or heart attack.
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