This isn’t a perfect existence, no. In a perfect world you’d wash, dry, and fold, all on your own. Alas, the dryer is half broken, so you always come out damp. You can’t be folded the same day you are so damp, so every door, chair, and table becomes a resting place so you can dry. Why must you be so difficult laundry?

Your cousin, the soap and wash just down the street, does a much better job. Alas, she is a far walk and doesn’t share the same interest in the Internet as I do. She goes to bed early, and keeps some questionable company. In many ways I wish she was a lot more like you, but at the end of the day I spend my night with you.

Laundry, if only you could dry for me, or just do yourself, my life would be a lot better. Life isn’t like that these days, and so I’ll keep you for yet another night, and get another roll of quarters next week in expectation of your ultimate arrival next week.