Friday, August 16, 2013

Domesticity

For the last few days the cat has watched in wonderment as I performed a variety of mundane household tasks. I feel like I should have an old-timey circus poster:

SEE Meredith iron!
WATCH her move laundry from the washer to the dryer
WITH HER BARE HANDS!
MARVEL as she empties the dishwasher!


And for the GRAND FINALE,
a feat NEVER BEFORE ATTEMPTED on this stage

Meredith will SCOOP THE CAT LITTER!!!

The reason for Jabberwocky’s astonishment is simple: for the past two years, fully half of his short life, these tasks have been handled by my housekeeper. Now with a reduced income stream and my return to First World labor prices I have to take care of my own house again, and the cat finds it unspeakably weird. So do I.

I’ve never been much good at the domestic arts. I subscribe to Lackluster Housekeeping, which features such articles as “A Little Dust Never Killed Anyone,” “Know Your Mold: Scrape It Off or Throw It Out?” and “If Laundry Falls on the Floor and No One’s There to See It, Does It Make a Mess?” Don’t get me wrong – I like things to be clean, I just don’t want to be the one responsible for making or keeping them that way. And when you combine my natural aversion to housework with being very out of practice at all things cleaning, the end result is not pretty. Just keeping up with the laundry and the dishes has been struggle enough, let alone attempting advanced housekeeping maneuvers like vacuuming and cleaning the sink. And I got all my boxes delivered on Wednesday, so the whole house is pretty much a disaster area.

I’m not expecting much in the way of sympathy here. I can hear you all rolling your eyes and laying the sarcasm on thick. “Oh, POOR Meredith has to do things for herself like a normal human being again. How AWFUL.” I know I probably deserve that . But housework is HARD, and I DON’T LIKE IT, and this is my blog so I can complain about it if I want. So there. 

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