Sometimes dirty laundry gets clean on its own

by zunguzungu

I sometimes have the dream that I’m sitting in a café, reading or just staring out the window at the rain. There’s a lot of my stuff around me, books, computer, papers, bags, more books, bicycle, and on and on.  I’m talking a lot of stuff, like laundry, dishes with half-eaten meals, extra pairs of shoes, you name it.  No one seems to mind.  But it’s a lot of stuff. I sit and I drink coffee and I think to myself: “I should probably go home, I’m tired, and it’ll start raining soon.” But before I can leave, I’d need to pack up all my crap somehow, and there’s enough stuff there to fill a small Volkswagen. I can’t possibly put it all on my bike. We’re talking piles of electronics, flower vases, wires, a tape measure, scotch tape. I think there was a phone book too. Soon, the café will be closing, and they‘ll want me to leave.  It’s getting dark, and its raining harder. I’m not sure how I’ll get home.

But then, that’s not really my problem, is it? Inertia is on my side. Let them figure out how to get me out of here.