In theory, I can accept the idea that it will never be done.
But in practice? In practice, I spend the mud season throwing in “just one more load.” I cling to the false hope that if I spend my every waking moment washing, drying, folding, and putting away, it might one day be enough. I might one day — for just one shining moment — be done.
It never is. I never am. I never learn.