Say my name, say my stupid name

Lately, the hideously cyclical nature of life has been troubling me. If not for this infinite duplication of efforts, what melancholy we could be spared if by nothing else than by the elimination of chores. If dishes would not persist in getting dirty after that initial rinse, we could quit washing the damn things. If grass would cease growing with just one cut, we could halt the regular resurgence of the lawnmower's rumble. If I could somehow manage to bring my love for you to an end, I could finally stop writing these lousy love letters.

Think of how much time we could save, if only repetition ceased to exist. With a reduction in toilet trips to a single visit, we realize an immediate gain of 13 cumulative lifetime months that would otherwise have been spent in the bathroom. Driving a car only once, we could potentially pocket an additional 37,935 hours. Someone inform the department of redundancy department — we have clear violations here. Even the most inviolate among us are guilty of recurrent transgressions such as these, yet what choice do we have with the world we are given?

I get it — we all have to face certain realities, but that only increases the importance of breaking the cycles when we can... so why not make it this one? This is your chance; maybe when I stop by to take your order again this time, you can muster the requisite boldness to select something other than "misery" from the menu. We might all simply be caught up in a flow beyond our control, but it's stupid how we always seem to do it again.