Taken about two years ago today with my dad's film SLR, at my old apartment. I lived on the ninth floor then, and cursed having to take the elevator into the basement to do laundry. My unit was the at the end of the long hallway, and I was deathly afraid of the walk from the elevator to my door in the empty corridor, for some reason. Now I live in a basement and miss the sunlight like nothing else, but the laundry is right outside my door and I can leave it open while I load the washer, so I can still hear my music and not be scared like I used to be.
Irony?
2 comments:
The closeness of the dryer brings me comfort.
We shall aim for an en-suite laundry next. Upgrade!
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