I really hate doing the laundry

I did not have a busy weekend. Far from it, actually. The problem was that Ashley slept over on Friday night, and although I promised not to keep her up all night, we ended up talking about random stuff until nearly seven in the morning (the facts that Cat and Gregory didn't go home until well after midnight, and I insisted on playing a randomly large amount of Metal Gear Solid in the middle of the night didn't help much either). On Saturday I headed over to Dawn's where we ate lots of junkfood and marathoned Tales of Symphonia. Being that we injested caffiene and sugar from two in the afternoon until four in the morning, once again I did not get to sleep until nearly seven in the morning (and then her roomate's alarm clock went off).

So here I am operating on less than one night's sleep in three days. This might explain why I forgot to put the detergent in with my laundry. In the end, my clothes are slightly damp, but not clean and my socks all smell like socks that have been in soggy shoes for ten hours. This wouldn't be such a tragedy if:
1) I didn't have to pay to do laundry
2) I had some free time in the next week to redo my laundry (at this rate I'll be staying up late again tonight just so my clothes smell nice tommorow >_<)
3) I didn't have to be somewhere in half an hour

And that's the story of my life. Sort of. Well, not really but close enough. I'm sure we can find some sort of all purpose metaphor relating to this incident: Life exhausts you and then your socks smell bad.

Which reminds me, Dawn informed me of a lovely little spanish proverb that made my weekend: "If you cannot fight, wear a big hat."