Last night, I was doing laundry. Yay for laundry!
Not yay for what happened next. I was in the midst of ordering a down blanket for myself, on an awesome deal, when I heard something rattle. I didn't think much of it. Then I heard the dryer buzz. I did think something of that, and went to change it. Only when I opened the door, I was greeted by a gargantuan puddle of blue. Yep, that's right, the detergent bottle fell from its (I thought it was) secure location, and the top shattered, spraying it everywhere, and seeping all over the bathroom/laundry room floor.
I tried my best to clean it up. It took forever. I kept wishing that I was Atlas, or Samson, or even Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, and that I could leverage the w/d up. But then I thought, Atlas couldn't hold the world up AND clean up under; that takes too much coordination. So then I wished I had a personal Atlas to shrug so I could clean underneath it anyway. When I got the mess down to mostly a thin soap veneer on the floor, and had tried as many tricks with paper towels as I knew to get what was under up, I went back to finish ordering my blanket. Only the offer of the super great deal expired at midnight in another time zone, and it was now nine minutes too late, no ifs, ands, or buts. No laundry disasters accepted as excuses.
So now my bathroom smells like fresh laundry...that's good. What's not so good is the aftermath. *Sigh*
Yep. Yesterday was definitely a Monday.
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