Someone Who Clearly Likes Their Panties In A Bunch

The hilariously anal memo above is courtesy our friends at www.curbed.com.

My advice to the above neighbor? Drop off service. Get involved! They'll come to your home, collect your pile, clean it however you'd like and return it folded. Oh, and by the way, quit your bitching. You should consider yourself lucky that you even have laundry in your building.

I lug my loads down four flights and a block away to the laundry mat, spend two hours doing the laundry and then lug it back. (I apologize for the repetition, but "To Lug" is the only way to accurately describe the process.) There's two drop off services on my block - one is literally across the street from my building, but I prefer to do it myself to ensure that snuggly softness that only bathing in Downy Ultra Concentrated can provide.

Many people mark an age ending in 0 or 5 as the time when they consider themselves officially a grown up. I'll ascend to this status the day I either suck it up and begin the extreme sport known as New York City apartment searching for one boasting its own washer and dryer. Or, for that matter, a dishwasher. Until then, I'll be donning rubber yellow gloves to attack the everpresent pile in the sink and toning my biceps and triceps lugging that beast of a bag up and down the endless flights of stairs in my building.