Today, the washing machine broke down on the fourth of six laundry loads, and I did not freak out. I successfully notified the apartment manager, put the dirty sheets (load 5) back on the beds, washed the delicates (load 4) in the bathtub, rolled them in towels, hung them up, put the towels in the dryer, asked a downstairs neighbor whether I could wash the pants (load 6) in the still-working machine in the other laundry room (there are two, with access based on which floor you live on), and signed up for some laundry room hours on Saturday to really wash the sheets. By noon I was out the door to meet Christopher at school and take him to his recorder lesson. I remained mostly calm through practicing his dictation with him (always dreadful), parkour class drop-off in the rain, shopping and taking the groceries home, picking up a now-dripping-wet child from parkour, and throwing together dinner when we got home. And after bedtime I made a casserole to take to a potluck on Friday.
So there.
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