CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE: THE RIGHT APPLIANCE CAN CLEAN UP YOUR SELF-IMAGE

I've been doing a lot of laundry lately.

Well, the actual volume of dirty clothes hasn't changed, but the laundering act itself is being performed with greater frequency.

Translated: I have a washer and dryer of my very own. I no longer have to lug my unmentionables across town in order to achieve a semblance of cleanliness.

The novelty hasn't worn off the appliances yet, and I get this warm glow knowing I can do laundry at 2 o'clock in the morning (!!!!) if I want to.

Not that laundromats aren't wonderful places with many opportunities for enlightenment and erudition. But I don't like folding the aforementioned unmentionables under public scrutiny.

I have to admit, though, that the laundromat/pool hall/cocktail lounge here in Cape is an interesting place. Heck, after a couple of beers, I can have my own private spin cycle.

Who needs a washing machine?

There's something decidedly grown-up about buying major appliances. It's such an investment in the future.

Sort of like buying a house a room at a time.

My friend Mitch says you're not really an adult until you purchase a couch.

My friend John, a lifelong bachelor now in his 50s, doesn't own a couch. He does, however, own one of those giant projection-screen televisions and two (count 'em, two) deluxe recliners.

With brown plaid corduroy upholstery and massagers built in. I'm surprised the remote controls for the TV/VCR aren't just hardwired into the chairs.

Noting the state of John's kitchen one day, I asked him if he ever bothered to clean the stove.

"Is that what that is?" he replied.

Incidentally, John's a homeowner, just not much of a housekeeper.

He also has three popcorn poppers, microwave ovens on both floors and a toaster oven in the basement.

I guess "grown-up" is kind of a fluid concept. Like "attractive."

I'm not good at appliances. I have a blender and a food processor, but I can never find all the parts for them. Besides, I don't cook.

It's not that I can't cook. I just don't have time. And my definition of "from scratch" means using more than one appliance.

That includes any combination of can opener and microwave oven.

I kill electric can openers and toasters. I went through three toasters in one year.

That's hard on the morning Pop Tart. I nearly converted to eating cereal, but I hung in there.

My sister has all kinds of gadgets, including a cappucino machine and coffee bean grinder, waffle iron, ice cream maker, choppers, dicers and slicers.

But not a washer and dryer.

(Gloat!)

The self-proclaimed Appliance King of St. Louis once asked my Aunt B. to marry him. She said no, but she got discounts at his store up until the time he retired.

She still gets a little sentimental when she sees dishwashers on sale, but then Aunt B.'s always been soft-hearted.

I guess you could say she really cleaned up.

When I decided to get the washer and dryer, I was a little worried about my cat, Melissa, getting herself trapped in the dryer. Fortunately, the utility closet now housing the appliances used to be the hiding place for her cat carrier.

She hears those sliding doors whoosh open and runs for cover.

The ultimate timesaving device would be something that would make doing laundry obsolete. Disposable clothes, I guess.

But we won't see it in my lifetime, so I'll be stuck fluffing and folding.

Life's a bleach and then you dry.

Peggy O'Farrell is a copy editor for the Southeast Missourian.