Groggily, you'd clamber up from your bed, put on those pink bunny slippers mum got you last Christmas, and head outside.
It's a good day.
A sunny one.
You'd yawn a few times too many.
Lumbering back into your room, you'd collect the discarded pieces of clothing, letting your floor surface revel in fresh air once more.
Carrying all your dirty clothes in a heap between your arms, you hug it close to your chest and dive your face deep into it, breathing in, breathing deep.
Reminisce last week's odours and flavours.
Savour the moment.
Opening a new box of washing detergent, you'd chirp happily; knowing you bought the right variant this time around.
No more overflowing foamy soap bubbles. No more leaky pipes. No more rotting floorboards.
Ahh the satisfaction.
The pleasurable sensation of stuffing the washing machine like a Thanksgiving turkey, and the twinge of sadness in seeing all the past memories ingrained by sweat and the occasional blood and tears about to be tumbled and soaped into nonexistence.
Closing the door, you hit 'START'.
It begins.
Erratic Behaviour
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