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Is it pathetic that I feel more accomplished finishing my laundry than just about anything else? I'm not even short on clean underwear. It's mostly that now I don't have to do it again for a couple of weeks, when the bag is as heavy as I want to haul.

I'm probably misquoting but it's a line of Maggie Dubris's that I always liked: Change is instantaneous, the way when you take off your shirt & throw it in the corner it becomes laundry.

This makes me think of spontaneous combustion. I'm the optimist's daughter. So much can happen with the snap of a finger.

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