Actually, it IS Rocket Science

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You guys are going to think I’m bat-shit after reading this

Seriously, you really will.  Because I’m even considering the possibility.

This morning I woke up and before I went down to the fitness center, I began a load of wash in my laundry room.  All right, you need to follow me now:  my washer and dryer are located in my apartment itself in a small room attached to my kitchen.  There are no windows and the only entrance and exit is the door that you use to access it through my kitchen.  What I’m saying is: it’s my own laundry room and no one else has access to it but me.  It’s very important you realize that before I continue.

Got it?  Okay.  We can move on now.

I loaded up the washer, flipped the “on” switch, and left the laundry room like a normal person who has fulfilled their duties of beginning a wash cycle would do.  I then put my shoes on, exited my apartment, locked my door, and went down to the fitness center for an hour, keys in my pocket.

UPON MY RETURN from the fitness center, I unlocked my apartment, took my shoes off, filled my water bottle, and re-entered the laundry room to move my clothes into the dryer.

The clothes were clean and had obviously completed their washing journey.  They were moist and knotted together without any detergent residue, indicating they had gone on spin cycle accordingly.

But the washer was open.

The washer.

It was open.

Have you checked the children?

Like many washing machines, mine will not complete a cycle past filling up the cylinder with water if the top is left open.  It will sit there like an anxious dog waiting for you to pleaseohpleaseohplease say that magic “WALK” word, only in this case “WALK” is substituted with “CLOSE TOP!”  Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease close my top so I can wash these clothes.

So my brain goes into super science mode.  There is no chance I’m going to blame it on something supernatural if I can at all help it.  Which means someone either opened it or I neglected to close it and some weird glitch in the machine allowed it to run its course without the top closed.

So the first thing I do is begin a new cycle, purposefully leaving the top open to see if that were the case for test/re-test purposes.

The machine filled with water, clicked into its next cycle, and stopped dead.  “Close top??  CLOSE TOP??  Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!!”


Then I continued, irritated now because I just wasted water by running a brand new cycle, inspecting the contents itself.  I thought maybe the previous time I ran it, the machine was on a timer where if it doesn’t move on to the next step within a certain amount of time it just drained of its water.  So I waited.  I waited a full hour to see if perhaps my clothes wouldn’t sit in a full tank of water.  And guess what?

The clothes sat there steeping for a full. hour. in a full tank of soapy water. Like a bunch of soapy, soggy-ass dead fish floating around in there.


What do we know now?  I couldn’t have left the washer open accidently before I left because they were clearly done with their cycle once I got home.

Someone opened my washing machine.  Someone other than myself.

Guys, I live alone.  And up until recently, I lived alone happily. The only other people who have a copy of my keys are the apartment’s main office.


I tackled the phone and dialed my complex’s office admin.  Spoke with two ladies and asked each if they had been doing any inspections recently to my apartment that I wasn’t aware of.  Usually they leave a notice one week in advance if they need to do anything in your apartment, but who knows, could have been a random thing.

Lady: And you’re a resident?

Ashlin: Yes.  In apartment #bleepblorp.

Lady:  Let me check my records.  Have you received any notice from us recently as to needing to enter your residence?

Ashlin:  No, I was just curious.  I’m trying to figure out who opened my washer when I wasn’t here.

Lady:  Okaaayyy… Let me seeeeee heeeeeerrrrrrre…No, I’m not seeing anything.  And we are required by law to offer an official notice of entrance unless we have reason to believe that you are partaking in illegal or unlawful behavior, and even then we would have records of that.  And I’m still not seeing anything that indicates we have entered your residence at all recently.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?

Ashlin:  Yes.  How do I go about changing my locks?

I hung up and only then realized how flipping crazy I must have sounded to her.

Then I realized how flipping crazy I’m starting to sound to myself.

In our law and ethics course, we learned that there are eight steps to making logical and ethical decisions in the workplace (you all who know about my dislike for the course take solace that even though I had a hard time with the class, I actually retained something from it).  It all boils down to the fact that when you have exercised all of the rational thoughts in your noodle as to what the hell is going on and what to do about it, you consult with a valued co-worker.

I don’t really work right now, per se. But I do have a best friend and confidant who has talked me down from the ledge more times than I would rationally like to admit.

Ashlin:  So what do you think?

BF&C:  I think, have you checked your panty drawer?

Ashlin:  Nothing else is out of the ordinary.  I’ve got a bra laying out in the living room that hasn’t moved. (don’t ask.  Sometimes things get thrown around)

BF&C:  Go get a home alarm system, stat.

Ashlin:  Wait, you don’t have any rational explanation that I’m not considering?

BF&C:  No, dude, sorry, I wish.  That’s just creepy.  My rational explanation is to get a home alarm system.  Now.


And then a thought finally crept into my head that I think I had been avoiding all morning.  A thought that my brain has been putting up an iron shield to for so long because the idea of it makes me cringe more than I can stand, and because I don’t want to admit it as even a possibility- because it’s just so damn far-fetched.  And it is a long shot, I mean it really is.  But I’m so completely stumped by the whole situation that apart from legitimately considering that I’m losing my marbles, has been a valid and proven experience for a not-so-lucky person before.

A few years ago, I stumbled on a video that made the viral circuit and did a pretty good job of giving me the heebs in the extreme sense.  It’s not a fabrication (follow the link to the guy’s page where he explains more about it), and I really can’t put into words what happened that the guy explains well enough in the video.  So here it is:

Now.  I still find it an extremely Pluto-distanced possiblity.  And I’m not exactly banking on it as my no. 1 explanation.  But you’d better believe I checked every single vent, attic entrance, and exhaust hatch once I thought of it and haven’t noticed anything too helter skelter (although I did retrieve someone’s hair tie that was lodged behind my dryer from what appears to be the dawn of existence of this complex.  If you still want it, lemme know.  It’s kinda disgusting, though.  May or may not have carried a family of spiders through the cold season).

I will be submitting this to the Unsolved Mysteries series this afternoon.  If you or anyone you know has information on this truly deviant case, call crime stoppers or contact Robert Stack.  What’s that?  He’s not the host anymore?  Oh well forget it then.  That guy was the only one who got anything done on that show.

Pretty sure my dad’s loading up his aluminum bat and gassing up his car right now.