Laundry Night - Part 2

The excitement of found treasures is just too much to keep to oneself.

I was walking briskly while posting and had just carried a not-so-light table up 5 flights of stairs, hence the somewhat breathless quality that could be misconstrued as some sort of weird laundry fetish panting. Which it wasn't. Really.

I also have to add the disclaimer that I am in no way a neat freak; I, in fact, tend to sway far more towards the slovenly side of the spectrum. But my roomate just happens to be far more severe in his lapses of cleanliness than I, hence the need to get rid of the crusty food particle laden dish drainer that really had little to do with the story at hand.

Notice the self-consciousness included at the very end - I was clearly aware of my penchant for tangents and my stunning ability to make any story ten times longer than it ever needed to be. This is why I do much better with a script; improv has never been my strong suit.