I read a blog recently where the guy had used a washing machine for the first time ever. Coincidentally, here in the southern hemisphere we're balancing up. After a lifetime of doing my own washing, I've discovered that the cellmate actually LIKES doing washing. I suspect she was keeping that quiet for political reasons. I've started letting her add some of my gear to her wash. It comes back clean, dry, and folded.
Yes, her idea of a good weekend is hot sunshine for drying, so she can endlessly rotate clothes on the clothes line, and keep reloading the machine.
When she was a student she worked in a laundry, and learned how to wash all day on autopilot. A bit like when I was a kitchen hand, and learned to crack hundreds of eggs every morning, two at a time, into big buckets for the omelette chefs. I could do it like a pro, even with last night's psychedelics in my system.