I just took a basket of laundry down to the first floor of A.’s and my building, where there’s a room of washers and dryers that residents can use. No one was in there except one of the women who is employed in a maintenance capacity and who I often see and always say hello to. Now I’m back up in the apartment, waiting till it’s time to go down again and transfer the items from the washer to the dryer. I’m feeling vaguely useless and depressed.