A Letter From the Laundry Room

Graphic by Sara McConnell

Dear Esteemed Keepers of the Laundry Budget, 

I write to you from the depths of my despair, otherwise known as, South Campus Laundry- where dreams go to die, wifi is lost, and I'm convinced socks grow their own feet and run away into the abyss. 

It’s a curious thing. We pay the university enough money to power and economically support a small island, multiple on-campus coffee chains, and those godforsaken electric scooters with seats that defeat the entire point of a scooter- yet, somehow, the concept of “one more open dryer” remains as elusive as free parking. I’ve found myself on countless occasions resorting to doing my homework sat on top of my washer waiting for the next free dryer- sometimes giving up entirely and hanging my jeans in the living room, turning on the dehumidifier and praying. I’m unsure if I’ve been preparing for a degree this whole time or Survivor: Spin Cycle Edition. 

Every Sunday the washers are full, Monday the dryers broken, Tuesday I’m standing in three inches of flooding- by Wednesday I start asking myself “maybe no one will smell me if i rewear this sweater.” Saw a guy this last week that timed three laundry loads so he could cycle them in and out of the same dryer without the dryer ever stopping, preventing someone to move his stuff. On one hand, I’ve declared him my mortal enemy. On the other, I might’ve been in the presence of genius. He did us all one favor at least by not leaving his clothes in the machine, leaving it to the people to decide “how long a wait is too long before I move this strangers holiday print boxers?”

Now, I don't mean to sound ungrateful— nothing quite builds character like waiting three hours to wash a single pair of jeans- but, perhaps, the university could provide the luxury of working dryers off the new NIL deal? Until then, I’ll cross my fingers and you’ll find me in the corner of the laundry room- cold, damp, and full of anger.