I come with good news

Great news ladies. Even though we are like cockroaches who refuse to die, our brains will wither away long before our husbands do. Probably because we are forced to use them so much. Though to be fair, I still don't know what back taxes are I can't spell "received" correctly despite an English degree, so maybe my brain will have a longer shelf life.

Researchers from unnamed institutions in, count them, FOUR countries have said that our brains are basically f*cked. What a waste of suffragettes who were trampled by horses to fight for our right to vote, get an education, and be considered people. At least when our brains go we can still watch/understand Real Housewives of Gated Communities and Keeping Up With The Thick Eyebrows.

As it turns out, one of the factors stressing us out is that our husband(s) won't do the laundry. According to unnamed researchers, who are probably all named Dale and Kevin, only 10% percent of husbands do laundry. So our brains die. 

California psychologist/zen-master Elizabeth Waterman suggests we try new activities, like breathing. Sounds good, I like it. I am not a psychologist but I am also from California and have eaten grilled pinapple wedges, so I feel qualified to offer my advice as well. 

• Tell your husband to do the laundry. Have we all seen those swiffer commercials where Morty naps while his wife dangles from step ladders like a craisin in slacks to dust some antique oak bureau? No Morty's allowed. If you manufacture so much dirt, as he gleefully admits he does, please help me wipe the people dust from this shelve, or at least help me fold your cargo pants. 
• If he won't help with chores, insist he buy a robot who will. Dress the robot in wigs and colorful beaded jewelry. Recline in your silk kimono. Drink a bottle of wine.
• If a robot is too expensive, look in to purchasing Keanu Reeves. He is about to turn 50 and still looks 11. These researchers also confirm he is 80% immortal, so its the same thing as a robot. Hand him the Tide. Drink another glass of wine.   
•  If none of the above work, move to California. Take up tandem surfing with Dr. Liz. Wear puka shell necklaces and nothing else. No more laundry! Long live the brain! 

That's just my two cents though. I am not a researcher from an institute in a country. I am merely a girl/woman who refuses to buy new running shoes, so my toenails take turns falling off. Maybe my brain is already in brain heaven, sprouting wings and tap dancing on the graves of laundry baskets. Ta ta!