Our local laundromat, which by the grace of God we won’t be needing thanks to our new washing machine. But this pic made the cut because it’s just so awesomely better than our Washington Heights one, plus the colors are pretty. The fact that someone had enough pride in the place to paint freakin clouds on the walls just baffles my New Yorker brain, and if I’d been born in France I’d have possibly avoided a lot of cranky laundry days. If any of you come to visit, bring a few soiled outfits so we can go experience it together.