We have a ton of these bags. We only use one for laundry. The rest are stored in the kitchen. Besides rattling dishes and banging the Swiffer, as I was resisting waking she had been compiling these bags, the sound of which, with all the crinkly vinyl being crumpled up and crammed together, was horrible. It took a lot of composure on my part not to say something mean or act passive aggressively upset. I didn’t want to spark a conflict that would last the entire day. My brain was a piece of flint that she was inconsiderately smashing rocks against and it was my job to be liquid like water, to go with the flow and swallow my frustration and rage.