I Hate Laundry

Somedays, nothing goes right.  I was having one of those days yesterday. 
It started with me needing cash.  I walked to the nearest shop and looked through the things.  I was going to buy a drink, but I was sort of wary of doing this, since temptation was going to be high.  I have given up pop for Lent, and there wasn't much else there to buy.  I finally settled on a vitamin drink, which was hopefully healthy. 
I bought it and got the cash back I needed and went back to my building. 
Usually, there are meant to be these rolly laundry carts in the laundry room.  You can borrow one and put your things for washing in it.  There's been a problem with people taking them and then not returning them.  And I found myself annoyed and on the end of this problem when, yes, I was in a rush and there were no carts.  I didn't have anything else to take my laundry in, so I took a chair that happened to have wheels.  I was hoping that no one would see so that no one would see how silly I looked, a mile high pile of clothes on a chair, but I forgot about it as soon as I realized the chair would need to be pushed extra hard between the crack between the floor and the elevator. 
There was another woman in the elevator.  She was going to do laundry.  Oh no, I thought. 
I exited first, and went into the laundry room quickly, beginning to put my laundry in a washing machine.  I was already so behind schedule-wise, and if I didn't get two machines I was going to be even farther. 
Someone was calling in the hallway.
I peaked my head outside and saw the woman from the elevator and another woman standing there, a sock in between them on the floor.  My sock. 
This sort of angered me.  It was a sock.  Not even a pair, just one sock.  They both saw me and saw where I went.  Both of them had their hands free, and not either of them could pick up said sock, walk into the laundry room, (which is right next to the elevator) and hand it to me.  No.  They had to call at me. 
They had to call at me so that I would exit the room and so the woman in the elevator could take the machine I was going to take.
Obviously, I was really annoyed.  There was something about it that smacked me of how very rude they were.  I probably glared at the woman.  I would have probably said something to her, calling her something equally rude, as soon as I finished trying to cram two loads of laundry into one washer, but then Sarah came in the room.
Sarah said hi to me, and I said hi back, my mind only half paying attention to her.  I was clearly busy.  She kept talking. 
"So you heard about what happened?" she asked. 
"Yes."  I had.  I had wondered if it was going to embarrass her to the point of dropping out of sight.  I would have probably disappeared, had I done the same thing. 
"Well, I have these nieces and nephews, and the oldest nephew is just like Dennis the Menance-"
Seriously?  I thought.  Do I seriously have to deal with this now?
"-and he is just like him, and after I told them about what happened he said 'Well, that was probably the leprachauns' and then I remembered that was the old story the Irish use to use when they did do something wrong.  How appropriate, right?"
"Yeah, that's a cute story."  It came out hollow, and I didn't mean for it to.  I like Sarah; she's nice; I was trying to be nice back to her. 
"Are you having a bad day?" she asked. 
Sarah's actually pretty good with human behavoir.  I was sort of surprised she didn't pick up on my stress earlier. 
"Yeah.  I need an extra washing machine."
Sarah looked into the one nearest her.  "This one is done.  Let's take the clothes out."
The woman from the elevator walked towards her.  "No, I'm using that one."
And the other one on my left, I thought.  There are two sizes of machine, and she had enough for one small one, but felt the need to use both one small machine and one large machine.  I was still annoyed at her for the sock incident less than three minutes ago. 
"Oh," Sarah said. 
"It's really okay," I said.  I was stressed, but I was trying not to take it out on her.  I just needed to cool off. 
Sarah promptly left, and so did the other woman.  I pilled as much as possible into the first one, but realizing I couldn't get anymore in, realized I would have to wait for the next machine to open up.  And would be even more behind. 
I sat down and did some reading while I waited.  The woman eventually came back and said hi to me.  I didn't give her much of a glance, but maybe she sensed my anger because she left pretty soon after that. 
Eventually, a second machine opened up, and I got the rest of it started.  Sarah came back in with a collection of books.  She said she was cleaning out her place and she had lots of good titles.  I had already taken a bunch of books from her earlier. 
"I'm sorry about earlier."
"It's okay, we all have bad days." 
We talked about books for a while, and she talked about one of her favorites, Overheard in NYC.  She had it with her and I looked over it while she talked to me about it.  "When I first read it ten years ago, it really offended me," she explained.