Dylan Love: editorial gun for hire.

The literal story of my life of late

I swear to God I’m going to fold the laundry and put it away as soon as I get back to the apartment.

The most appropriate time to do something is the moment it needs to be done. Right now this rolling bag of laundry needs folding, and then putting away, so I’ll do it right now. That’s a pro cyclist attitude. I’m totally going to fold this laundry right now, go to bed early, then crunch out 40 miles in the park on the bike before work tomorrow. As soon as I shut the door behind me and safely deposit myself in that comfortable womb called Apartment, I will begin the admittedly bothersome tasks of unraveling all these microwave-warm t-shirts I got for free 6-10 years ago, delicately folding them all into neat little shapes, and then putting them away in an ever decreasingly defined system of Ikea drawers stuck in bookshelves.

Yeah. Right away. That’s when I’ll do it.

I can watch TV and fold laundry at the same time. It might take a little longer than usual, as one would have to account for the obvious lulls in folding that take place as a result of my laughing or thoughtfully pausing at something the narrator just said, but I can entertain myself with distraction for a little bit and the laundry will still get done.

I’ll just turn the volume up slightly.

Okay, so it’s getting late and the laundry’s obviously not getting done tonight, but man, what a good documentary series on the Dust Bowl. Today was admittedly a complete failure to accomplish a single thing of impact, but the healthy thought here is that tomorrow’s another day. That’s the healthy thought here, so that’s what I’ll think. I’ll even get up early and crunch out those 40 miles in the park on the bike before work tomorrow.

Yeah. That’s what I’ll do. I can have it all.