![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2Di7b2h:
Precisely as I was worried would happen, my car was fogged up so badly on the inside that I had to run it in the driveway for 15 minutes before I could see out of the windshield. I hate doing that.
It’s 8 degrees today.
Dude has today off, as it’s a federal holiday. There are federal holidays, though, and federal holidays. For some reason we get Memorial Day off, at the store, and Labor Day, but not MLK Day, Columbus Day, Veteran’s Day– I don’t know how that works, what the tiers are.
Dude gets all of them, of course. His company closes whenever the Federal Reserve is closed, which is every possible non-religious holiday, plus the major Christian ones. (think about that, huh? He gets Good Friday but not, say, Rosh Hashanah.)
I spent the weekend cooking and cleaning, and doing laundry. I made no headway on cleaning, it was all just cleaning up the kitchen after making a mess cooking. (wittering on about cleaning and my disaster life)
But I finally, fed up of constantly tripping over the recycling, took all of it to the bin outside, and discovered that– well, Dude usually takes out the recycling; all summer long I’m not home, and we got a new complicated schedule, so I take the garbage out as often as it needs to be but I just never do the recycling. And I discovered that he never takes the paper or cardboard out. There was stuff under the cabinet where we stack it that was literally years old. I recognized it; I’d put it there, because that’s where the cardboard goes. So I got down and spent half an hour cleaning under that cabinet, and shoved everything in the new complicated-schedule tote outdoors (before this we only had a little bin and kept it inside; now it’s single-stream and intermittent and there’s a big tote with a lid that we keep outdoors) because I was tired of, while cooking, tossing things into the little bin and having it bounce back out because the bin was completely full.
Anyway. Dude said, since I have today off, tell me which of the complicated dinners I should put together! … I made most of the complicated stuff over the weekend already, we just have relatively easy stuff left to cook this week. (For tonight I’d figured on a casserole that is literally completely assembled and just has to go into the oven. There’s 0 work to do. I already did it.) So I said to Dude, since I spent all weekend cooking and cleaning, maybe you could continue my project of tidying the kitchen enough to sweep the floor?
I wasn’t looking for a project, he grumbled, as if this were an absolutely insane thing for me to ask him to do.
And fine, he doesn’t have to. But. The shit from wrapping Christmas presents is where he left it on the floor, there’s a stack of books he left on the floor literally a year ago when we were last doing a big cleaning project, and he has not one time swept the kitchen in the fifteen years we’ve lived in the house, and it’s disgusting because when I started spending weeks at a time at the farm I decided, fuck it, I’m not sweeping that kitchen floor either. (There were two notable [to me] occasions where i got back after weeks away, having swept before I left, and the floor was filthy, so I swept it again, then left, and came back to it filthy, and I just decided I was done with that.) I sort of thought he’d object, eventually, but he never has, and now it’s astonishingly disgusting.
So I thought, well, use my words.
No. So. Maybe he’ll put the wrapping paper away, if i’m lucky, but. No.
Sigh.
I’d love to get literally anything under control but I don’t know how. He is a Victim to my Filth, you see, because I have too many possessions. But he can’t even put stuff away that he got out. I don’t know where to start. Two of my sisters were threatening to come help me clean but I wouldn’t know where to have them start either. What’s The Point, &c &c.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk about how Everything Sucks!
(Your picture was not posted)
Precisely as I was worried would happen, my car was fogged up so badly on the inside that I had to run it in the driveway for 15 minutes before I could see out of the windshield. I hate doing that.
It’s 8 degrees today.
Dude has today off, as it’s a federal holiday. There are federal holidays, though, and federal holidays. For some reason we get Memorial Day off, at the store, and Labor Day, but not MLK Day, Columbus Day, Veteran’s Day– I don’t know how that works, what the tiers are.
Dude gets all of them, of course. His company closes whenever the Federal Reserve is closed, which is every possible non-religious holiday, plus the major Christian ones. (think about that, huh? He gets Good Friday but not, say, Rosh Hashanah.)
I spent the weekend cooking and cleaning, and doing laundry. I made no headway on cleaning, it was all just cleaning up the kitchen after making a mess cooking. (wittering on about cleaning and my disaster life)
But I finally, fed up of constantly tripping over the recycling, took all of it to the bin outside, and discovered that– well, Dude usually takes out the recycling; all summer long I’m not home, and we got a new complicated schedule, so I take the garbage out as often as it needs to be but I just never do the recycling. And I discovered that he never takes the paper or cardboard out. There was stuff under the cabinet where we stack it that was literally years old. I recognized it; I’d put it there, because that’s where the cardboard goes. So I got down and spent half an hour cleaning under that cabinet, and shoved everything in the new complicated-schedule tote outdoors (before this we only had a little bin and kept it inside; now it’s single-stream and intermittent and there’s a big tote with a lid that we keep outdoors) because I was tired of, while cooking, tossing things into the little bin and having it bounce back out because the bin was completely full.
Anyway. Dude said, since I have today off, tell me which of the complicated dinners I should put together! … I made most of the complicated stuff over the weekend already, we just have relatively easy stuff left to cook this week. (For tonight I’d figured on a casserole that is literally completely assembled and just has to go into the oven. There’s 0 work to do. I already did it.) So I said to Dude, since I spent all weekend cooking and cleaning, maybe you could continue my project of tidying the kitchen enough to sweep the floor?
I wasn’t looking for a project, he grumbled, as if this were an absolutely insane thing for me to ask him to do.
And fine, he doesn’t have to. But. The shit from wrapping Christmas presents is where he left it on the floor, there’s a stack of books he left on the floor literally a year ago when we were last doing a big cleaning project, and he has not one time swept the kitchen in the fifteen years we’ve lived in the house, and it’s disgusting because when I started spending weeks at a time at the farm I decided, fuck it, I’m not sweeping that kitchen floor either. (There were two notable [to me] occasions where i got back after weeks away, having swept before I left, and the floor was filthy, so I swept it again, then left, and came back to it filthy, and I just decided I was done with that.) I sort of thought he’d object, eventually, but he never has, and now it’s astonishingly disgusting.
So I thought, well, use my words.
No. So. Maybe he’ll put the wrapping paper away, if i’m lucky, but. No.
Sigh.
I’d love to get literally anything under control but I don’t know how. He is a Victim to my Filth, you see, because I have too many possessions. But he can’t even put stuff away that he got out. I don’t know where to start. Two of my sisters were threatening to come help me clean but I wouldn’t know where to have them start either. What’s The Point, &c &c.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk about how Everything Sucks!
(Your picture was not posted)
