Clothes just don’t stop needing to be washed — because no, you can’t live in that one t-shirt for the rest of your life. Trust me. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. Not even if you argue with your wife that it’s your lucky shirt and the universe will collapse if it ever touches detergent. The universe remains suspiciously intact, while the shirt doesn’t.

Adulthood. One day I bent down to pick something up and my knee made the exact sound of an old door hinge. Ever since, my joints decided to provide free sound effects to every move I make. Creak. Full Dolby Surround experience.

Now, amidst all this chaos — laundry that never ends, joints that refuse to be silent — there’s one thing that keeps me sane. Or at least looking sane. It’s the trait I value most about myself. I like to think I’m serious and mentally balanced.

I know — it sounds suspiciously like something you’d write when you’ve run out of actual skills. But for me, it’s real. Because sometimes I desperately want to throw in a joke that I know doesn’t fit the situation. And right before I open my mouth, my brain goes — Grzegorz, be serious. And I listen. I mean, what choice do I have? You can’t argue with your own brain.

I bet you know that feeling too. Unless your name isn’t Grzegorz — then your brain probably says something else. Hopefully, because otherwise, creepy.

So yes, seriousness. Mentally balanced. It’s the internal brake that kicks in just before I say something wildly out of place. It doesn’t sound exciting, but it works.

Or maybe I’m just running out of topics, and I needed an excuse to complain about laundry and knees.