Friday, September 4, 2015

If This Laundry Boulder Could Talk

Oh hi! Here I am again. I'm baaaaaaack! I know. You thought you dealt with me last week. Well think again, bitch! My misery game is on POINT and I'm here to BRING it. You have every other Friday off just to deal with me, remember? 

Awwww yeeeah. I love basking here in the sun, just knowing that I'm going to occupy your entire morning. No amount of musical or telephonic distraction is going to make it any easier, either, so don't bother trying even one of those bush league tricks. The task at hand is what it is: folding and putting away an entire week's worth of laundry for a family of four. And I have given you that task, with no small modicum of sadistic glee. 

See? I can even use words like "modicum" and "sadistic" while describing how miserable I'm making you. Because that's the kind of laundry boulder I am. 

This is how I DO!

Nothing in modern times comes close to the myth of Sisyphus quite like me. I am the First World embodiment of the impossible, futile effort to roll a boulder up a hill only to have it roll right back down again and start over. Even as I speak, even as you reduce my girth, I am building my stores and rallying in the hampers and corners of your home. And even as you smile smugly to yourself, folding easy items like sheets and towels that makes me look like I'm retreating, I will END you with my mismatched socks. Did you hear me? No? Let me say it louder, then.


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