How crazy is it to think that every normal, sane person has a pile of freshly washed clothes just sitting on a chair, waiting to be folded… once every two months, maybe? Of course, this doesn’t apply to the rich folks with maids, or to those rare psychos who are actually functional and organized, unlike the rest of us.
Now, before you judge—I’m not a filthy person. I said washed laundry, not dirty. The dirty stuff is already stacked in and over the laundry basket, currently towering higher than Mount Everest.
Sometimes I look at that pile and think, “Damn, I have way too many clothes.” But then I remember: I need them all. I mean, I go to work, so that’s one outfit per day, plus my home clothes, which for some reason I feel compelled to change into every evening. Okay, maybe I’m a little crazy. Lol.
The reason I’m writing this is because, right now, I’m sitting across from my single-seater sofa—which I haven’t actually seen in over a month. It’s stacked high with washed clothes. And strangely enough, in that mountain of fabric, I know exactly where to find each item I need. I even remember certain pieces sitting in there, waiting to be worn again. Every now and then, I think, Okay, let’s finally fold this stuff. And then, about five seconds later, that motivation is completely gone. Oh well.
Dear Sofa Seater,
I don’t know when I’ll see you again. Sorry you’re under so much stress right now. I hope your burden gets lighter soon. I know this mess is my fault, and I’m trying to do better. Hopefully, I can improve just enough to lift the weight off your shoulders.
Hang in there, buddy.
With love,
Yours truly,
Lazy Boo
