Today he decides to help me fold the laundry.  I would rather let it sit untouched, unfolded, and just live from the laundry basket for the next several days, but that annoys him so I let him help me.  Most of the clothes in the basket are mine.  As we fold we create little piles of his things, my things, his shorts and pants, my shirts and underwear etc.  He comments on my t-shirts.  Some are newer, many are very old, worn and faded.  Those are my favorites; they are most comfortable.

I decide to just leave the piles of my own laundry on the bed for the time being because since there is so much, there isn’t any room in my dresser.  It desperately needs to be cleaned out.  I can do that another day.  He says two things that are interesting to me:

1. I have more t-shirts than any woman he has ever known.

I’m very casual.

2. He says I have two separate wardrobes, one for the house, and one for out of the house.


The thought occurs to me that the self I present to the outside world must be different from the self I am when I at home.  This must be true for most people though, I think, right?  We’re more relaxed at home, less formal, comfortable.  So then I realize then this isn’t such a fantastic idea after all.  But I’m still intrigued by the notion of duality.  We can not possibly be the same person to everyone and every situation.

But how does one compartmentalize who they are?

I know for a fact that not a single person knows all sides of me.  Not even my husband.  What would he think if he knew my secrets?  I don’t think he’d be very happy at all.


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