My sheets had never been so clean as they had in the past few months. I hardly got them on again before something else happened and I was feverishly ripping them off and stuffing them in the wash with double amounts of soap and all the "extra" buttons pushed: extra wash, extra rinse, extra water, extra spin, extra protection against things that go bump in the night.
In the recent months, the cleanliness of my sheets has reached an unprecedented level. It seems that mere moments after I put them on the bed, some unforeseen event occurs, prompting me to strip them off immediately. This relentless cycle of washing has become a routine, with my sheets frequently going through an intense cleaning process.
I find myself using multiple settings on the washing machine to ensure they come out spotless. I add extra soap and activate various features like the extra wash, rinse, and spin cycles, all in a quest for perfect cleanliness. This whimsical desire to protect my sheets from untold threats highlights a blend of anxiety and care that I seem to embrace during these chaotic times.
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All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
