“I’m a fucking lady,” she screamed in a voice thick with the promise of tears and violence, “Where’s he at? Where the fuck is he at?”
No one answered.
Silence is one of the first rules of avoidance isn’t it? Pretend you don’t see them and the potentially crazy, violent person will fade away? I didn’t know who ‘he’ was where ‘he’ went and since I wasn’t looking at her in the first place, I didn’t know who it was that she could not see.
Each time I go to the laundromat I vow it will be my last. For at least six months, my dryer at home has been broken. I repaired it once before and the cost was more than the cost to replace it. I have agreed to buy my husband out of the house--if it makes financial sense for me to do so, and I haven’t decided that it does. To purchase a dryer, have someone haul it up my 28 stairs, down the 10 or so stairs to the basement and haul the old one up 10 or so stairs and down 28 stai…