For 6 weeks during the summer of 2003 I didn’t do laundry even one time. And I could’ve gone for another three weeks, without breaking a sweat (metaphorically… I was in Florida in June, so I was literally sweating by 6:45 AM every morning. But metaphorically not sweaty at all.)
Image Courtesy of Vince Alongi
Toward the end of the time, one of the girls on my staff team acted all disgusted that I hadn’t done laundry, so I thought I’d prove my own hygiene by breaking out a consecutive string of 13 straight clean shirts to close out the summer project.
My secret? I had driven to Florida in my near-teal 1998 Nissan Sentra, and therefore had viewed it as one big suitcase, cramming it full of every article of clothing I owned. I had entered the summer with a plan not to do any laundry, and I was sticking with it.
Related: I wore a swimsuit every day, and counted it as washing when I jumped in the pool.
Also distantly related: I don’t want to tell you how many times I’ve done laundry since I’ve been married, because it might ruin a good thing I’ve got going. Let’s just say that my wife is amazing and leave it at that.
I treated support raising that year the same way as laundry that summer. Once I had finished my initial support, getting to the elusive 100%, I had figuratively packed my car so full of t-shirts that I was all set to thoroughly ignore my financial needs.
Not such a great plan.
It ranks up there with the time me and my brother decided to jog past the “no trespassing” sign in the we-thought-was-vacant forest near our house. Turns out theres’s an old man with a shotgun who lives there. And we should be leaving now, in a zig-zag pattern.
Yeah, taking the same approach to raising support that I did to pimples in 8th grade (ignore and hope the problem doesn’t get noticed by any potential girlfriends) wasn’t the wisest move, in retrospect.
Call this advice for single guys: find a woman who does your laundry by being a guy who pays his bills on time.
Can I get a witness?
