UPDATE: I just realized that the back story to this post is really long, and the actual point of the post is at the end. If you don’t care about the back story, please skip to the end. If you would like to be partially entertained by my life, read on.
Husband and I live in one of the nicest, oldest neighborhoods in Wichita. Every house was built in the 1920s, and most have shifting foundations and window units (like mine). However, our huge house is not ours –we rent!
Our rent is fairly cheap because our house, while huge with a garage and in a great neighborhood, is falling apart. The foundation is visibly cracked (literally as big as my arm in some places) and the plaster, which is horsehair, is falling off the walls. The roof leaks, the bathroom leaks and the air-conditioning units leak. It’s fantastic. The air flow in the house is so bad some rooms will be freezing and some rooms will be sweltering –usually the bathroom. Not that any of that is a real problem for a renter such as myself. It’s really not a big deal as long as I’m comfy.
So our rent is pretty cheap and our bills are okay… not always the best in the summer time because we’ve got the window units running 24/7. We spend the very last of our money on gas and food, which has to be healthy because I’m “fixing my fat” and Husband is an uber dork about eating healthful meals. I am, too, but not as bad.
Every Thursday I do laundry. Unfortunately, Husband and I cannot afford to buy a washer/dryer set because (even though our bills aren’t huge), we’re still pretty poor. I don’t even think we’re middle class according our tax bracket. Sad.
In addition, I wouldn’t even want to spend money on a washer/dryer set right now because we don’t have a great place to put them in our house. Our basement is where the hookups are. Our basement is freaking terrifying. I’m afraid of it.
The people who originally owned the house had a lot of stuff, and not even normal stuff, just a bunch a crappy stuff. The most recent former renters cleaned out a lot of that stuff, but some of it is still left and the empty places are still freakin’ nasty. I hate going in the basement, and that’s the only place we can put the washer/dryer.
So instead of purchasing a washer/dryer and braving the basement, I drag ALL of Husband’s dirty clothes and my dirty clothes to my mother’s house, which is only a 15-minute drive away on the highway but still… UGH! And I do laundry there.
NOTE: Picking up Husband’s clothes from everywhere all over the house should totally be considered exercise, but I bet it’s not.
(I tell you about Husband’s and my money situation and our house because it does affect my life in a fitness manner.)
I am A-OK with the traveling laundry set up, but laundry takes a really long time, and I’m stuck in a different town so I really don’t work out on Thursdays.
That’s the point. I don’t work out on Thursdays because I don’t have time, and I can’t fix it because I don’t have any money.
When I get home, it’s usually 7:30 p.m., and Husband is hungry, and I need to make dinner and hang out with him and feed the dog and clean the house. So by the time he leaves for work every night, I’m pooped, and I don’t want to exercise. I don’t even want to do yoga, and I love yoga.
In addition to not working out on Thursdays, I usually don’t eat right, either. Mom doesn’t really have a whole lot of super healthy food, unless I want to cook it, and I’d really rather just snack on chips. She always has chips. I love chips. (Today, a.k.a. Wonky Laundry Day, it was cookies. I also love cookies.)
I’m not working out and not eating right. I suppose Thursdays are my “break days,” but I don’t think I’m supposed to have more than one a month. I think, for proper dieting and fitness, I’m allowed one cheat day a month, which is totally not enough.
Laundry days suck.
Right now, I’m drinking Pepsi (so bad) and eating Girl Scout cookies and chocolates (even worse), and I had Buffalo wings and beer for lunch with my friend. (Lunch was at three so it’s totally okay for me to have beer that early). The chocolates have to be really bad for me because I can take out the mint middle without the chocolate falling apart. You can’t do that with Reese’s, which I also love.
I AM SO FAIL AT LIFE RIGHT NOW.
Although, in my fail, I found out something fantastic that may or may not be true. Take it upon yourself to believe. So if you’re curious how many calories you burn while doing laundry, because I often am, check it out:
Driving: 30 minutes total = 67 calories burned
Doing Laundry: 10 minutes total = 10 calories burned
Folding: 20 minutes total = 10 calories burned
Ironing: 10 minutes total = 24 calories burned
Total Calories Burned = 111
This is an average estimate based on a 139-pound ,22-year-old woman (i.e. me) per hour of actual work. (I had to do math. I used a calculator. If I’m wrong, it’s the calculator’s fault.)
This post is over. It’s been over for a while. If you feel sorry for me, don’t send me money, just Tweet about me or something. It’s good for Google, and I am a Google Trollop.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I HAVE TO BAKE! Adventure to be posted tomorrow…