Routine is therapeutic,
when you are at peace folding your laundry.
When a smile plays at the corners of your lips,
as a random conversation replays in your head.
And you smell the clean scent of freshly washed linen.
Routine becomes a curse,
when one look at your overflowing laundry basket
makes you contemplate all your life's choices.
You think, is it time already?
You just washed a truckload of clothes.
The cycle continues.