LOAD FIRST THE JUST IT’S IT’S FIRST THE JUST LOAD

Going to college is a big step, and it can often be a scary and stressful time. Leaving parents behind brings a new sense of freedom, but also one of responsibility. We no longer have Mommy and Daddy to guide us down a clear-cut path. The transition is undoubtedly difficult, but here is some good news: you are definitely not alone in your struggles. I know I have encountered many challenges along the way during this first semester of my freshman year.

As a freshman, I have had my fair share of awkward and confusing moments, but there is one in particular I thought I should share. It was my first time doing the laundry since moving in. I had been dreading this moment for a long time, and I waited until I had practically run out of clothes before heading down to the treacherous laundry room. Alas, it was inevitable. The fateful day had to come eventually, and when it did, I found myself heaving a giant sack of clothes that probably weighed three fourths of my body weight. My first mistake was waiting as long as I did. Everything became so much more difficult than it needed to be.

When I made it to the laundry room, I took out my clothes, separated them into lights and darks (while frantically calling my parents and asking for advice, of course), and chucked them into the washing machines. I had no idea how to use any of the features on the washing machines and ended up washing my clothes with the default settings, which was annoying. By the time I figured it out, I already had one load going. I moved on to the next washing machine, threw in the detergent, and tried desperately to make sense of the settings. I asked someone nearby for help, and thankfully they were kind enough to explain the process to me. I felt accomplished knowing I had now managed to figure out how to separate my clothing successfully and use the washing machines correctly. I was so happy in fact, that I forgot to put the detergent into the third washing machine with the rest of my clothes. Without a care in the world, I put my clothes in, chose the settings I wanted, paid, and shut the machine. Then I saw my Tide pod sitting there. I dejectedly looked from the Tide pod to my clothes, which had just begun the process of being “washed”. “This is fine,” I said to myself, shaking the entire debacle off. I waited another 45 minutes before the cycle was complete, and I’m pretty sure that I made the same exact mistake the second time around, but I’d rather erase that from my memory. When all of my clothes were finally washed, I put them in a dryer machine. I then waited for another 45 minutes before coming back and realizing that my clothes were still wet. I chalked it up to setting the temperature too low, so I put it on hot this time. After another 45 minutes, I came down and saw that once again my clothes were wet. Now, if you’ve ever done laundry at Hume Hall, you know that there are two rows of dryers with one stacked on top of the other. I put my clothes in the bottom dryer, dryer number 1, which had two control panels on it. I used the panel on the right, simply assuming it to correspond to the dryer I chose. I was wrong. The panel that went with the dryer I chose was the left one, and there was an arrow pointing down to it to signify that fact, but of course I hadn’t paid much attention to that. At this point, I was so used to messing it all up that I gave up. I picked the correct dryer, waited another 45 minutes, and came back. I was relieved that my clothes were finally dry, or so I thought… I shoved them into my bag and lugged it upstairs, glad the experience was over. However, it wasn’t over, and at this point I began believing my laundry had some sort of vendetta against me. I was peacefully folding my clothes when I realized that about a third of them were still wet. By then it was about 10 p.m., and I just wanted to sleep. There was no chance I was going to go back down and dry my laundry again, so I just laid them out to dry.

The clothes that did dry had their own problems. For whatever reason, there were strange dirt stains all over my clothes. The stains were weirdly hardened and looked like some kind of mud that someone had smeared on. There was also a dirty shoe print of the same nature on my favorite pair of pants. I took a sponge and spent a good hour and a half scrubbing off the stains. These clothes had gone from the dirty laundry, into the washer and dryer, and back into the bag. Not once did they touch the ground, and I most definitely did not step on any of them. To this day, I still have no clue how those stains appeared.

We all make silly mistakes during our first year in college. Mine just happened to be multi-layered and extremely unfortunate. So, whenever you think that your life is a mess, and you have no idea what you’re doing, think back to this. There’s a first time for everything, and we will all learn how to do the laundry eventually.

Story by Evanthia Stirou Design by Madeline Browy FALL