Saturday.  The day we get ready for Sunday.  We wash our clothes. I love washing clothes.  Going to the overly warm basement, filling a washer with the clothes I wore this week; bliss.  I listen to the quarters drop with bell-like clinks in the slots, and I crush my detergent tablets into the little basin.  I press the "bright colors" button, and the machine starts its hum to life.  A little click, snap, pop, as the machines that are older than me begin to roar. I go upstairs to wait.

I sit in my room, watching Planet of the Apes (with Chucky-Boy Heston) on AMC for the next hour, waiting patiently for my clothes to clean.  I am grateful I live in this day and age.

Classic movie.  Wait, time is up.  I make the long walk down three flights of stairs, entering the steamy laundry room.  The timers say zero.  To save money, I decide to put all of my clothes in one dryer.  Last week, I washed them in the same machine, they came out of the dryers still soaked.  Two loads in the dryer for one in the washer.  A dollar in each dryer; for 25 cents you get 12 minutes.  I hung the clothes all over my room.  They took hours to dry.

I put 6 quarters in the dryer, 72 minutes. Back upstairs, to continue my movie.  Bare Chuck-Butt is traumatizing. Naturally, it's not Planet of the Apes without a scantily clad beautiful woman. Ugh.  No wonder eating disorders are so popular these days, if beauty is that girl.

Ah, time is up again. I make that walk again, looks like I got my daily exercise...downstairs, I hope my clothes are actually dry, I only have so many quarters until Spring Break, three weeks away.  Oh good, dry, warm, smelling so wonderful.

I love the smell of clean laundry.  It makes me feel orderly, nice, hygienic.  Did I spell that wrong?  I think so.  Ah, I cuddle my warm towel to my face, breathing in the smell of my dryer sheets.  A thing a beauty.

Bliss.  Clean. Check off my to-do list.

My descriptions aren't as detailed as San Chonino's.  Wish I could write like him. 

I love clean laundry.  Heaven.  Yay.