Laundry Tetris

I realized today that I work in Tetris. No matter how quickly I find a place for folded laundry, there is always huge heaps more of laundry thrown at me that is waiting to be folding. Always. Like Tetris. Laundry Tetris.

I also realized that I suck at folding. But I believe that everything in this world evens out. Everything is fair. I decided that since I’m terrible at folding towels, I must have some other great undiscovered talent. Maybe I’m the world’s greatest surfer, or maybe I’d be great at pole dancing. I don’t know, but one thing’s for sure: I’m certainly total shit at towel folding.

Today Old Bitch kept eying me to make sure I wasn’t folding small towels, because she still doesn’t trust me. You know what I noticed? Old Bitch is slow. She folds slower than I do, but no one cares because she’s old. What the hell is that woman doing still working anyway? I mean, fuck, that woman’s probably in Depends by now, what is she doing folding towels all day? She’s definitely older than my grandparents. Where are my grandparents? In an old people’s home sleeping most of the day. What is this woman doing? Working in a fucking sweatshop/playing Laundry Tetris.

I was really excited because I was about to put away my folded towels into the assigned cubbies, when French Bitch stopped me. She asked me (in Hebrew!!!) if I wanted to do this work together with her. “B’yachad” she said. Together. And I was very happy, because I thought FINALLY I was part of the Women of the Wash. “B’yachad?” I repeated. “Cen, b’yachad,” she confirmed.

So I take my handful of towels and start putting things away. After a few seconds I turn to see what she is doing and see that Israelis clearly have a different definition of “b’yachad” from what I learned back at NU. French Bitch was standing in the doorway, watching me with a bitch French smirk on her face, drinking a cup of coffee. Apparently finishing a job “b’yachad” means that one person does all the work while the other smiles condescendingly and drinks coffee (from a glass that is always dirty….hence, I never drink at work, and hence French Bitch is always yelling at me to drink).

When I had finished, I wanted to say something to her in Hebrew that was snarky, so I formed a sentence in my head that would be said as sarcastically as possible: “Hine, gamarnu b’yachad.” (Look, we’ve finished together!) But then I remembered hearing somewhere that “ligmor” sometimes has sexual connations, and I was not in the mood to hand out sexual innuendos. I’m not really sure if there’s an Israeli equivalent to “That’s what she said,” but I really don’t want to find out. Especially not from French Bitch.



You know what? From the moment I get my citizenship in Israel on I’m using “Immigrant” as a slur. As in, “You fucking immigrant!”

Also, I forgot to update for Israeli Music Sunday. So here is Subliminal's gift to the state for its 60th birthday. I hear this song every fucking day on the radio and it is the highlight of my day every day.