Pressing Room

Tonight was laundry night; never was there a more thrilling way to spend your Wednesday evening! I did seven loads of laundry containing only things of my own. (You see, normally I do the boyfriend's laundry as well since he hates it and it is the girlfriendly thing to do, but since we are on a break (?) I have no idea in hell how to describe us at current.) Anyway I long for the day that I have my own washer and dryer and don't have to feed the machines shiny quarters. (Although one of the highlights of laundry night is looking at the new quarters; West Virginia: The New River. Who'd have known!!) I have actually spend hours day dreaming about the perfect mudroom; sometimes it is ala Martha Stewart with sleek, industrial, yet somehow homey appliances surrounded by everything you could ever possibly need to remove any type of stain. Martha Stewart kind of hypnotises me. I remember one story from her magazine mentioning the "ironing room" in one of her homes. It seems that when the place was built (and from the way it sounds it was built by someone who would make Gatsby blush) the owners were so extravagant that they built a room with many windows in which the washer women pressed all of the house's linens. The windows provided ample light and airflow for doing so. How grand; a room set aside for simply ironing. One day I would like a room with washer and dryer, and maybe (dare I dream?) a sink and some places to hang things.