Ok, so BOOM: We're in the judgment-free zone here, right? We don't shame or criticize or point fingers at each other for doing raggedy shit, right? We're adults, imperfect and infallible and prone to the pitfalls of the human experience, right?

Right. 👉🏾 RIGHT. 

So that means we can talk about stuff together, right? So can we talk about how busy parents with rambunctious toddlers running around terrorizing the pets and eatin' up all the chicken nuggets and Cheerios get a pass for not folding and putting away laundry. And that we give them that pass ON PURPOSE. They deserve it. They ain't got the energy, and that's OK. How we also give a pass to career driven corporate types who are focused on chasing a bag and climbing the ladder so really don't have time to get around to meaningless laundry and would rather outsource the whole thing. We EVEN give passes to entrepreneurs who aren't necessarily tied to a hectic workplace, or people who ARE tied to a hectic job but work from home because work is crazy right now and who has time to think about laundry anyway? 

Does this mean we can ALSO talk about those people who work a chill job FROM HOME, or people who maybe don't work AT ALL, people who don't have pets, or toddlers, or housemates, or businesses, or LITERALLY anything else that would keep them from yanking that fuckin' laundry from the dryer and putting it straight away? Can we talk about those people?

Because it's me. I'm people. We need to talk about me. 

I live alone. I work from my beautiful living room. My son is 25 years old this year and does NOT text me asking for CashApp lunch money so my money is my own. I don't have a ton of exhausting hobbies that pull me from the house, nor do I have relationships that drain all my energy. My dog - Nico - lives with my dad now. I haven't sold more than 5 candles this whole year. I'm not busy, nothing is taking up all my time. Really, I'm not doin' shit. It's just me, Netflix, Hulu, Prime Video, Disney+, Peacock, my air fryer, and Marco Polo.

So tell me why TF there's 5 loads of clean ass laundry taking up a WHOLE side of my king sized bed, on top of my pillow shams, under the comforter, mixed up in my sheets, and hanging off the foot of the damn bed that's got me sleepin' balled up in the fetal position hanging off the edge of my own side of the bed.

Why? HOW? Make it make sense.

Y'all. We wear the same 5 outfits ON REPEAT anyway because they're our favorite, they're comfortable AF, and at this point, we're out here just doing whatever we want anyway because who even cares. So where the fuck did all this laundry even COME FROM??! 

AND WHO GON' FOLD THIS SHIT?!