Too late to be too late

Today, I finally got around to pulling the washing out of the washing machine, one day after it had been washed. I got around to it because my memory finally got around to remembering about it, twenty four hours after it was supposed to remember about it. This convenient lapse in the memory of my memory meant that I began putting the washing out on the day that the weather decided to put off the sun for another three months or so, thus ensuring that the washing would, in turn, do its best to delay any drying out that might previously have been planned for it - on, say, the day I happened to put it in the washing machine.

So it was that all the procrastinations performed by the various parties came together to form a beautiful procrastinatory whole, and it was a beautiful thing to see.