Let it be known that I am the World's Biggest Loser. I was feeling down from online friend withdrawal, so I was trying to think of anything that would get me out of my dorm room, where I had spent two hours playing solitaire. I decided to do laundry. Then I remembered that the laundromat nearest my dorm is unbelieveably expensive. I looked at the flyer I had received upon entering, trying to find out about other laundromat locations, when I again remembered how one of the RA's coped with excessive laundromat prices: she used her bathtub. "This should be interesting," I told myself in a fairly schizophrenic manner.

I gathered all my colored clothes together (minus the "Percy is God and Boba Fett" shirt, as it was too precious to me to lose in the event that I messed up royally), and threw them in the tub, turning on the water. I grabbed my walkman, headphones, and precious "Yellow Submarine" CD, and prepared to get slightly wet. Laundry detergent was added. Wash cycles were simulated by a foot sloshing the clothes around to the tune of "Hey Bulldog" and "All Together Now". Then suddenly, as sudsy water washed over the clothes, a wave of absolute joy washed over me. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. I still have no idea why I found this so entertaining, but for some reason, this alternative to laundry was the most fun I'd had in ages. I danced around my cramped bathroom, moving shirts from the bathtub to the sink to be rinsed, feeling like a complete moron for having so much fun, but not letting my realization that I was acting like a lunatic dim my radiant mood. Yes, Priscilla has finally gone mad. But it's a good mad. Yes, indeed. I think I'll write the Zen Book of Bathtub Laundry, or possibly become a guru, teaching enlightenment through Beatles and laundry. Who will be my first Grasshopper?