Thursday, May 26, 2011

Hillsborough, California


From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

Hillsborough is an incorporated town in San Mateo County, California, in the San Francisco Bay Area. Hillsborough is one of the wealthiest communities in America and has the highest income of places in the United States with populations of at least 10,000.
           
Area code 94010.  Yep, that’s me.  Living with my dog in one of the wealthiest communities in America.  Go figure. 

I feel compelled to actually wash my car for the first time in years…not that I haven’t washed my car in the last few years, it’s more like I have never felt like I needed to…I’m a little concerned that someone is going to call the cops about the vagrant with the red Subaru from Washington…since I obviously must be a squatter. 

But it gets better!  Wait, actually, a little back-story first: I am renting a few rooms in a big fancy house (in one of the wealthiest communities in America).  It is sort of an apartment that is connected to the rest of the house…private entrance, private bathroom, bedroom, and this weird “kitchenette” that consists of a microwave, mini refrigerator and some of my own Rubbermaid bins draped with sarongs hippy style, to provide me room for food preparation and coffee production.  And my “apartment” is separated from the rest of the house, via the actual kitchen, with a mirrored closet door that has been propped over the entrance to the real kitchen and then held in place between my fridge and the larger one on the other side. 

So it is a slightly funky set up. 

And, true to the same form that has provided me with such a high tech partition separating me from the rest of the house, the shared washer and drier on premises have been out of order since I moved in.  Of course….

I finally gave up on doing my laundry here a few days ago.  One of my house mates, another unsuspecting medical professional (an oncologist researcher from Maryland actually) suggested over a glass of wine the other night while we were comparing notes on our land lady, that the two of us do a trip to the local Laundromat together. 

So, Tuesday night, my new doctor friend and I packed all of our laundry into his car, and wound down the hill to the nearest Laundromat, located in the next town over, Burlingame.  You see, it turns out that one of the wealthiest communities in America for some reason does not have it’s own Laundromat within it’s city limits. 

Go figure.   

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