A Quote by Susane Colasanti
He has to wair for another load of laundry to get done. So I wait with him. I lean back against the couch, sitting really low the way I like. I scrunch over and put my head on his shoulder. We sit like that for a long time. Watching other people's laundry dry. <3
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I am about as relaxed a guy as it gets. I like sitting on my couch, watching shows, sitting by the fire pit. I like to play golf, but I don't have a chance to play it often. Playstation. Xbox, but I'm about as boring a guy as you'll ever meet. I could sit on this couch from the time the day starts to the time the day ends.
Cammie's going to be mad she missed this," Macey said to fill the silence. "Excuse me?" Hale asked. "Nothing." She shook her head. "I just...I have a friend who really likes air vents. And dumbwaiter shafts. And laundry chutes. Of course, the last time I was in a laundry chute, Cammie and I fell about a dozen stories..." "well, that sounds like fun." "it was either that or get kidnapped by terrorists, so I guess we got of easy.
I do laundry, but my bags from the last race will sit there until the very last minute that I have to do laundry again.
When I was 11 years old, my family had to leave East Germany and begin a new life in West Germany overnight. Until my father could get back into his original profession as a government employee, my parents operated a small laundry business in our little town. I became the laundry delivery boy.
I won't put in a load of laundry, because the machine is too loud and would drown out other, more significant noises - namely, the shuffling footsteps of the living dead.
He tilted his head to the side, still watching me in that same, disconcerting way. “Some things are true, drunk or sober. You should know that. You deal in facts all the time.” “Yeah, but this isn’t—” I couldn’t argue with him looking at me like that. “I have to go. Wait… you didn’t take the cross.” I held it out to him. He shook his head. “Keep it. I think I’ve got something else to help center my life.
You know when you're sitting on a chair and you lean back so you're just on two legs and you lean too far so you almost fall over but at the last second you catch yourself? I feel like that all the time.
I will waste an extraordinary amount of time, you know. And if it's not watching television, I'll be sitting staring out of the window. And yes, I know there's the idea of the artist, sitting there doing nothing while things are going on, but actually, no. It's vacant space. I'm thinking about the laundry.
So silently, peacefully, without hurry, without any tension, without any anguish, move into yourself instantly. It is urgent. Unless meditation becomes urgent to you, it will never happen; you will die before it. Put meditation on your laundry list as the most important, urgent... number one. But meditation in your life is just at the very end of your laundry list - and the laundry list goes on becoming bigger and bigger. And before you finish your laundry list, you are finished, so the time for meditation never comes.
When he first put his arms around me, it was tentative, like maybe he expected I'd pull away. When I didn't, he moved in closer, his hands smoothing over my shoulders, and in my mind I saw myself retreating a million times when people tried to do this same thing: my sister or my mother, pulling back and into myself, tucking everything out of sight, where only I knew where to find it. This time, though, I gave in. I let Wes pull me against him, pressing my head against his chest, where I could feel his heart beating, steady and true.
You know it's time to do the laundry when you dry off with a sneaker.
Measurement is like laundry. It piles up the longer you wait to do it.
I was raising seven kids. I lived in the bedrooms, in the laundry room, in the kitchen, in the car - car pooling all over. I just didn't have time to sit down and watch a lot of TV. So I really didn't.
Marriage: The most expensive way to get your laundry done.
I remember as a really young child, watching his energy on the sideline and watching him get excited, his body movement, the way he reacted. It's fun to hear other people tell stories about my dad and the things he did in games and the way he'd get upset with officials.
There is a thing where I get scared watching other people, and really realize, My God, their happy lives are going to stop. Sometimes you feel that people have 19 jokers in their back pocket and, because of the way they're living, you're like, Do you know that this is not going to happen over and over again forever?
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