Monday, 17 September 2012

The zen and the art of using the washing machine

the only way is up

Today's been a long and weird day: I felt like a zombie.
Luckily I didn't look like one.
This morning I went to the gym, but then on the way back got lost, because I was not really looking at the street I was walking in and added 15 minutes to my journey.
In the office it took me 10 minutes to realize I was trying to open the door using my flat's key.
I feel I need some extra time to get back into my everyday routine.
Was it really only a week holiday? It felt longer. I left completely drained and I've got back with a huge smile on my face.

Not sure exactly what happened, yet something switched.
Serendipity or not, things changed. I met incredible people. I laughed. I breathed deeply. I talked and thought, I wandered around and wondered, aloud and by myself about life and other disasters.
Since the first day up in Trentino's mountains, my brains stopped the overflow of thoughts and worries and concentrated just on the present at hand.
I spent a nice week, meeting nice people, walking a lot and laughing even more. 

Am I really happy now? Perhaps.
Am I ready to get back to life in the city? Maybe not.

Right now I don't know, but I don't care either.
Memories of places, people and colours are still too fresh in my mind: what matters to me now is savoring the memories, browsing and organizing all the photographs, sending out some mails and getting back into my daily routine.
And getting back into memories means one thing and one thing only above everything else: washing machine.

Luigi told me that washing machines are somehow therapeutic: when you're down, upset or things just don't work as you wish them to, you just need to start 2 or 3 washing machines in a row and you feel better on the spot, like there's some order in your life already.
I decided that, given I almost got nothing clean to wear, I could try this theory out tonight. It makes sense in a way: it cleans and rinses, things looks nice, fresh and neat once out of the machine.
It didn't completely work. Yes, I felt more order around me, but I also felt like Munch's screaming man: why, oh why, do I always forget one or two socks out of the washing machine!?! I thought I had double checked, no heck, I treble checked. Still, when I closed window, start the coloured cotton program and half of the washing machine was filled with water, my eyes felt on 2 singles, lonely, crumpled, unpaired socks. Welcome back, Virgi.

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