Saturday, May 04, 2013

Washing, Up

I'm currently folding two weeks' worth of washing and while this is productive it is also boring, like the start of a military campaign where you're busy training your troops and filling your granaries (?) and not actually having any battles.  

"Lord, what tidings from the North?"
"The sock battalions grow larger and the tee troops become legion, but sort of a disorganised legion, because I can't find the shirt folding thing.*"

There isn't even a battle.  It's not like I just need to finish the washing and then a wizard will teleport in through the wardrobe and take me off to the Andromeda Galaxy's Annual Tiger-Riding Bon Jovi Night** as some sort of a reward.  I'm only folding everything because it's on the couch in laundryish mounds and I need to sit on the couch and do some work.  "So, Ally, how was your weekend?"  "Well, first I had to get the laundry out of the way, but then I got to do some work!"  Fuck's sake.  

Anyway, last night I had a dream that I was a character in a video game - pause to fold some undies - and every time I died*** I had to go back to a save point and have a baby.  What doing, subconscious?

(Before you ask, this interesting dream does not mean that I'm pregnant.  It's cool fun to be a lady because every time you feel a bit ill, or tired, or very hungry, or not hungry, or generally out of sorts, the first thing people say is "Pregnant!"  They turn from friends and colleagues into smug embryo-detecting motherfuckers.  Then they smirk: Tee hee, I gotcha! I saw you leave the last half of your bacon and egg roll.  You're so pregnant right now.  You don't  have to tell me these things, I just know.  Havin' a baby, that's what you're doing. Am I right? I'm right, aren't I. 

Stop doing this, everybody!  Not only am I not pregnant, but if I was, I certainly wouldn't choose to announce it to family and friends via the subtle medium of  a half eaten bacon and egg roll.  Instead I would post an Instagrammed picture of the roll on Facebook with the message, "Couldn't finish my roll today... weird... usually I love bacon... whatever could be going on???" then wait for the 100,000 comments to come rushing in before ending the suspense by saying "YES! You guessed it, we're pregnant!"

Also! While I am having pregnancy related rants - which apparently I am, although I'm not sure how that happened - can everyone please stop saying "we're pregnant"?  (Everyone, but especially people who are actually pregnant.  People who aren't pregnant, I'm not sure why you would be saying this in the first place, but whatever, as you were.) "We're pregnant" is an annoying phrase because it's not true. 

"We're having a baby" or "We're going to be parents" or "We're going to fulfil our evolutionary purpose, after which we can die" are all acceptable and true things to say, but 'we're pregnant' isn't as good, mainly because the harsh truth of the matter is that only one of you is pregnant.  (Spoiler alert: it's the lady.  Or, if both of you are ladies, it's the lady who is currently growing/hosting/gestating the baby. I say 'currently' in case you're planning to swap over halfway through, which is unlikely in reality but would make an interesting premise for a science fiction movie.) I know, because people tell me, that having a baby is a lovely shared experience etc. but there are heaps of technically accurate ways you can announce that, without keeping the audience guessing: "John and Mary are pregnant?"  "Yes!"  "What, both of them?")

In summary: stop assuming ladies are pregnant, stop saying "we're pregnant", and the washing is still not folded.

p.s. if you are a sayer of "we're pregnant", we're sorry if we offended you.  "We" is me and the dog, Boizey, and we are sorry in the same way that you are pregnant, in that one of us isn't.


*"Shirt folding thing?" I hear you ask. "Who uses those? What have you become?"  But they actually save heaps of time & effort, and are cheap.  I would include a picture of a nicely folded t-shirt but I'm not that far gone, you can google that for yourself.  Or just imagine a folded tee.  I'm sure you've seen one.

Apparently there are many helpful websites which will take you through a step-by-step guide on how to fold a fitted sheet (in text, audio or video format, such is the level of technology and free time that we as a society possess); I looked some up out of interest but they all have different methods, none of which is "roll the sheet up until it is as small as it will go, then wedge it into a corner of the laundry cupboard" which is odd, because that is of course the correct way to go about it.

**Is this a night where you ride a tiger and watch Bon Jovi, or where you watch Bon Jovi ride a tiger?  I don't know, because I haven't finished folding the washing.  I don't even know if it's Bon Jovi the man, or Bon Jovi the band.  Life is hard.

***honestly, this was pretty much constantly.  Whoever was controlling videogame-me in the dream was a really shitty player.   WHAT IF THE VIDEOGAMES WE PLAY ARE SOMEONE ELSE'S DRE- oh shut up


2 comments:

Chris Rees said...

Loved that. And sorry for being such a neggo and predicting you would take months to blog. I just did it to MOTIVATE you.

Hexen und Schnecken said...

Brilliant. Please don't take so long to blog again. Please?