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dear huge piles of laundry,

October 10, 2009
my laundry...

my laundry...

i know how much you want to be washed, but for some reason i cannot bring myself to washing you.  it’s not as if your size diminishes, in fact, you only get bigger.  maybe i’m defying my adult responsibilities to return to a happier time of youth.  but wait, i had a horrible youth…

laundry, this is all i ask.  stop judging me.  stop shaking your head as i walk past ignoring your disapproving gaze.  stop sighing loudly when the dogs knock you over and make you into their bed, stop threatening to tell my mother on me.  because for now, dearest smelly clothes, this is how it shall remain.

sincerely,

dahlia

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