Copy of Put on Your Pearls and Do Your Laundry

Put on Your Pearls and Do Your Laundry

Today’s little North Oshawa adventure began with pearls and a bag of dirty laundry.

I needed to do laundry.

I could have done it in my own basement.

Instead, I put on my pearls, called an Uber and purposely travelled to a different neighbourhood. I decided I would do my laundry, find somewhere nearby to eat and see what happened.

Because laundry has to be done. That does not mean it has to be boring.

I ended up at Laundry Haven. It takes tap, but bring some cash because only a couple of the machines accept it. And you just know the guy who leaves his laundry sitting for 30 minutes after it stops will be using one of them.

Personally, I prefer cash anyway. I love feeding a five dollar bill into the change machine and hearing all those coins clatter into the tray. I like to yell, “Winner!” or, if I’m feeling particularly French that day, “Gagnant!”

There is a particular kind of camaraderie that happens in a laundromat.

You find yourself standing beside a complete stranger, both trying to convince a machine to accept a perfectly respectable five dollar bill.

You straighten it. Smooth it. Turn it around. Try again.

And then it takes it.

Success.

Suddenly you are exchanging fist pumps with an older gentleman because the two of you have just defeated the machine together.

These are my people.

People are kind at laundromats.

Someone explains which machine works best. Someone holds a door when your hands are full. Someone grumbles with you when the machine refuses your money. For a few minutes, you are all just people doing laundry together.

I think we underestimate these tiny encounters.

One of the things I am discovering in sobriety is how much the everyday begins to elevate when you are actually present for it.

Laundry is still laundry. Groceries still need to be bought. Dinner still needs to be made.

But these things are our lives. They are not the boring bits we have to rush through while waiting for something more interesting to happen.

So why not elevate them?

Wear the pearls.

Use the good cup for your morning coffee.

Put music on while you make dinner.

Take an Uber to another neighbourhood to do laundry you could have done in your own basement.

Once my laundry was spinning, I went exploring.

I knew there was a restaurant in the complex. I had been hoping for bacon and eggs. No such luck, but they did have a decent fish and chips.

The place was packed and there was live music. It could have been an Irish pub or a bunch of East Coasters who had somehow all landed in Oshawa. Hard to say.

Then there was the bar lass.

Without me even asking, she put on a fresh pot of coffee for me.

Her gentleman was there too, running plates for her when things got busy. Although I had the distinct impression that helping with the plates was only part of the reason he was there. Mostly, he seemed perfectly content just to be in the same space with her.

I loved that.

Nothing remarkable was happening, and yet there was so much to notice. A fresh pot of coffee made without asking. A man carrying plates because it gave him somewhere to be near someone he cared about. Live music. Fish and chips. People enjoying a Sunday afternoon together.

And me, sitting there in my pearls while my underwear went around in circles a couple of doors down.

All because I needed to do laundry.

This is what I mean by elevating the everyday.

It does not require a vacation or a special occasion. Sometimes you simply decide that instead of getting through your day, you are going to experience it.

And I think sobriety has a lot to do with that.

Sometimes it can feel like you are trying to live sober in an alcohol soaked world. Alcohol is woven into celebrations, dinners, vacations, bad days, good days and ordinary Sunday afternoons.

Part of sobriety is learning to set yourself up for success. It is knowing yourself well enough to ask, What do I need here, in this moment, to protect the life I am creating?

But it is not about making life smaller.

For me, it is about making life so interesting, connected and genuinely mine that alcohol becomes increasingly irrelevant to it.

There is a whole lot of life hiding inside the ordinary.

Sometimes we just have to be present enough to notice it.

The laundry still has to be done.

Wear the pearls.

Your Concierge