The Royal Court of Survival Mode: Long May They Reign

The Royal Court of Survival Mode: Long May They Reign

In a far-off kingdom, but not so very far off, just beyond the laundry pile and slightly left of your to-do list, there lives a royal court unlike any other. 

They are not elegant.  They are not polished.  I think you’ll find, though, that they are very familiar.  Presiding over this grand and crumb strewn domain are two noble rulers:

The King of the Cambell’s Soup, ruler of “What’s for dinner is whatever is in the pantry” throne room.  He wears a red and white robe, slightly stained, but always available in times of need.

Beside him reigns The Princess of Peanut Butter, beloved for her sweetness and reliability. She may not be fancy but she’s there for you, in sandwiches, on spoons, or straight from the jar when a day goes sideways.

Their court is lively, loyal, and a little chaotic.  Let’s meet the others, shall we?

• The Duke of Dirty Laundry—constantly multiplying. You think you’ve defeated him, but alas, he returns with unmatched socks and damp towels from last week.
• Lady Dog Hair of the Couch—elegant in her own way, soft and ever-present. She has claimed the cushions as her domain and sees no reason to leave.
• Sir Email Unanswered—haunts the castle halls whispering guilt-laced reminders, but everyone presents not to hear him.
• The Baroness of Crumbs-in-the-Car—noble collector of snack remains and ancient receipts. Her chariot smell vaguely of coffee and dignity.
• The Countess of Cancelled Plans—protector of rest, queen of cozy, whisperer of “not tonight.” She often travels with soft blankets and a good book. 
•  Sir Soaks-a-Lot--the noble knight of the sink, bravely letting dishes "rest" in warm water for what may be hours…or epochs. His motto: “One cannot rush greatness. Or scrubbing.”
•  Dame Multi-Tab of the Desktop Isles—ruler of 47 open tabs. Can’t close a single one because she might need them.  Her kingdom is scattered but vast. 
•  The Grand Duke of Disappearing Time—Responsible for the lost hour between “I’ll just scroll for a second” and suddenly it’s dark outside.
•  Baron Voicemail Full—he cannot be reached at this time. Or probably ever.  Your call is very important to him but not quite important enough to listen to seven messages in a row. 
• The Court Jester of Coping Mechanisms — unpredictable and oddly relatable. One minute she’s cracking jokes, the next she’s impulse-ordering a mini trampoline. She offers comedic relief, chaotic ideas, and the occasional midnight snack binge. She’s a little unhinged…but we keep her around because sometimes, she’s exactly what we need.

Together, they govern the Kingdom of Survival Mode.  It’s not glamorous.  It’s not well-organized, but it’s real.  It’s where the brave live, the ones who keep showing up, feeding people, finding missing shoes, paying the late fees, and remember (sometimes) to switch the laundry.

And while the palace may be cluttered and the royal gowns may be leggings, make no mistake:

Even in survival mode, you are royal.

You are holding together lives with leftovers and laundry baskets. You are weaving love into cracks and calling it Thursday.   You are choosing presence over perfection.

Long live the unmade beds.

Long live the unmatched socks.

Long live the beautiful, tired, funny, fierce women who rule their kingdoms with grace, snacks and a little sarcasm.

I’ll be cheering you on—courtside, coffee in hand, tiara slightly askew.
Because ruling the Kingdom of Survival Mode isn’t for the faint of heart.
But you, my queen? You’re doing it.