Locked Away

The apartment that I live in was built in the 1930s, which means it has character. The one down side is that the laundry room is around back and in the basement.

So, two weeks ago on Saturday morning I grabbed my laundry and headed down to do my wash. I put my key in the door, stepped inside, and heard the door shut behind me. Then I looked for my keys, only to realize that they were still in the door — on the outside.

As I tried the door knob, I realized I was locked in — no cell phone, nobody knowing I was down there. I sat down on top of my clothes to think. If I screamed who would hear me?

I started to panic a little, but then calmed myself down. I had to think. I decided I just had to wait it out.

I thought of things to do to occupy my time. Thoughts of sitting on top on the washer while it was on the spin cycle went through my mind, but I decided against that. I started doing leg squats and jumping jacks, but after five minutes I'd had enough of that.

Next, I started singing every song from the Sound of Music, and any other musical I could think of. After singing "Doe A Deer" for the last time, I realized something.

In fifteen years of being single, I had never really minded being alone — until this very moment. Nobody even knew I was down there! That was when I got upset, and the tears started. (At least I had some towels to blow my nose.) I realized then that it was important to find that one person to share my life with.

As I dried my eyes, I thought "Hey, when life gives you dirty laundry, it's time to do the wash." And that is what I did.

Three hours later, the women who lives across the hall from me came down to do her laundry and rescued me, but not before I'd had plenty of time to wash clothes — and more importantly, to think.