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validate me
Dec. 7th, 2019 02:13 amvia https://ift.tt/2DSSXU7
it is the busiest week of my stupid office job which is full of stupid and i hate it and am not fulfilled by it and also it pays me basically minimum wage despite me having been there for fully half of my adult life at this point and yet
AND YET
i have also made dinner every night this week except for monday, out of things we had in the house since we have not gone grocery shopping, and i’ve made good dinner mind you, never the same thing twice, always ready before 7pm except for banjo lesson night when actually it was ready by 7 we just weren’t home yet, thank you instant pot, and i have done three loads of laundry already this weekend even though it is friday evening (one of them has already hung to dry!), and i have moreover made drinks and done yet more dishes, i have done the dishes six times this week.
(Dude has taken the week off, from everything but work, and he’s been home early three days this week, and has spent his time sitting on the couch while i cooked him dinner and made drinks, and that’s his prerogative, he did not ask me to make him dinner, but god damn. Someone just appreciate me for a second please.)
(Also he hasn’t given me his laundry, despite me having begun laundry at 7am today, and I know he’s going to just dump a bunch of stuff into the basket like, just after I do the last load that would naturally accommodate that specific set of garments. (I have already done three out of the six loads I anticipate needing to do this weekend, and I sort pretty specifically, so.) Argh. I don’t mind doing all the household laundry, because I have a sort of OCD-adjacent compulsion about it, but. Come the fuck on.)
I need to be more chill about things. It’s just driving me nuts because I know he won’t begin to touch the mountain of dishes that have been building up despite my sporadic small efforts in between everything else until tomorrow morning approximately two hours after I have become ravenously hungry, whereupon he will spend like an hour and a half to do the pile of dishes, and only then will he contemplate defrosting something to cook it. It will be 2pm before we eat breakfast, and he will not be ready to begin the day afterward until approximately time for bed.
VALIDATE ME I AM NOT A HOPELESS WRETCH AT HOUSEWORK
also validate my extremely grumpy feelings that if you wanted a housewife you shouldn’t be expecting me to work fulltime outside the home, you motherfucker.
(Also: what a genius am I not to have reproduced? can you imagine if there were kids here too? oh my fucking god.)
it is the busiest week of my stupid office job which is full of stupid and i hate it and am not fulfilled by it and also it pays me basically minimum wage despite me having been there for fully half of my adult life at this point and yet
AND YET
i have also made dinner every night this week except for monday, out of things we had in the house since we have not gone grocery shopping, and i’ve made good dinner mind you, never the same thing twice, always ready before 7pm except for banjo lesson night when actually it was ready by 7 we just weren’t home yet, thank you instant pot, and i have done three loads of laundry already this weekend even though it is friday evening (one of them has already hung to dry!), and i have moreover made drinks and done yet more dishes, i have done the dishes six times this week.
(Dude has taken the week off, from everything but work, and he’s been home early three days this week, and has spent his time sitting on the couch while i cooked him dinner and made drinks, and that’s his prerogative, he did not ask me to make him dinner, but god damn. Someone just appreciate me for a second please.)
(Also he hasn’t given me his laundry, despite me having begun laundry at 7am today, and I know he’s going to just dump a bunch of stuff into the basket like, just after I do the last load that would naturally accommodate that specific set of garments. (I have already done three out of the six loads I anticipate needing to do this weekend, and I sort pretty specifically, so.) Argh. I don’t mind doing all the household laundry, because I have a sort of OCD-adjacent compulsion about it, but. Come the fuck on.)
I need to be more chill about things. It’s just driving me nuts because I know he won’t begin to touch the mountain of dishes that have been building up despite my sporadic small efforts in between everything else until tomorrow morning approximately two hours after I have become ravenously hungry, whereupon he will spend like an hour and a half to do the pile of dishes, and only then will he contemplate defrosting something to cook it. It will be 2pm before we eat breakfast, and he will not be ready to begin the day afterward until approximately time for bed.
VALIDATE ME I AM NOT A HOPELESS WRETCH AT HOUSEWORK
also validate my extremely grumpy feelings that if you wanted a housewife you shouldn’t be expecting me to work fulltime outside the home, you motherfucker.
(Also: what a genius am I not to have reproduced? can you imagine if there were kids here too? oh my fucking god.)
