Today I decided to cave and wash my clothes for the first time since I got here. I went and broke a 50 by buying a 2 liter bottle of Fanta Limon (my favorite thing in the entire world), packed my suitcase full of dirty clothes and hauled it up to the 6th (really the 9th) floor where the washers and driers are. It was so hot up there (since it was 104 at ground level) that I couldn't figure out what was going on, and managed to put all my change in the machine the wrong way and have to go downstairs, break my 20 by buying a bunch of water (same store). I recruited Matt, the guy who lost his luggage and has done laundry billions of times, to come show me how it's done. Of course, this time, the machine just magically starts without me pushing ANYTHING. I blame the heat for making me delirious.
I took a couple hours off from the laundry scene after getting my clothes in the drier and went to a really cool Sherry Tavern. Then, when I got back some loud, stupid Americans were putting my clothes on top of the drier which I really don't mind, but they apologized A LOT. I was trying to figure out if I should be mad, since they seemed so upset, but I'm pretty sure I'm okay with it.
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