When I opened the door to the laundry room today I was surprised to see that the laundry was still there. Just sitting. Looking at me with those wild eyes–which turned out to be just a pillowcase stuck between a pair of underwear and the pants they were desperately trying to get out of. But I swear it looked like a pair of wild eyes. So there it sat, Sven, my laundry pile. Yeah, I named him. Years ago actually. When Jerimiah and I were just dating and our laundry basket sat at the end of the hallway and stared at me all day long. Sven. That’s his name, always has been, always will be. And while the world is sort of at a standstill right now. When we are just taking things one day at a time, praying for a vaccine, and social distancing from friends and loved ones, there is Sven, sitting there with his wild, underwear-pillowcase eyes, watching my every move.

Yesterday I did three loads of Sven, though I can’t tell you what a real load looks like anymore. Come to think of it, I couldn’t tell you what an appropriate size load even is. I’ve had people watch me load a washing machine and gasp, saying under their breath, “Holy Hell, she does such big loads!” While other friends have watched me load a washing machine and stopped me to give me tips on how to add more clothes. So honestly, I dunno, I did regular old loads of laundry yesterday. I’d say just imagine your load, then add five more pairs of jeans. That’s mine.

Because Sven is a mess, y’all. And I hate him with everything in my being. I hate to see him, but he’s always there! Even when he has JUST disappeared, I do one walk through the house and BOOM, he’s back. How do three humans go through this much laundry? And during a quarantine?! What the hell is happening?

I will admit there’s a lot more pjs in the laundry pile these days, but otherwise I’m like, “Where did this come from?” and “How did you wear three outfits in a day?” I finally had to break down and wash Jackson’s bathrobe today because shiiiiiiit! Then we had a talk about the importance of using deodorant even when we aren’t going to school.

I don’t know. I don’t know why Sven can’t take a fucking break. But he can’t. And he never will, and this is life. Laundry. Laundry. Laundry. Bleh.

You guys have a good day, okay? Me? Oh, I’m gonna go try to get rid of Sven again.

M.