March 16th 2017
Today I got really annoyed at the never ending pile of washing up that appears every time we eat dinner. Like, every time. It’s endless. I get home from work at 630 and Alice is finishing off cooking dinner. We eat dinner. And then I do the washing up. She cooks, I wash up. That’s fair enough. Except by the time I’ve finished the washing up it’s basically 8pm. And then I’ve realistically got two more hours of my evening until I’ve gotta go to bed to get up in the morning to do it all over again.
Except it’s not just the washing up. Tonight I had to put on a clothes wash as well. Which, admittedly, doesn’t take too long. But that washing cycle finishes in 27 minutes, which means that in 27 minutes I’m going to have to get out of bed, go downstairs and put all of those clothes on the clothes horse in the utility space. Except, we both know I’m not going to do that.
The chores are just never ending. There’s always so much to do. And you can only ever make a dent in it. Before I put that load of washing on you couldn’t close the lid to our laundry basket, and now – one whole load later – you can only just about close it.
And the washing up still isn’t done, because I’ve left it to dry overnight.
My favourite trick is leaving things to soak overnight. That always annoys Alice. Casserole dishes are the worst. I always leave them until last, and by the time I get around to them I really can’t be arsed any more. So I just squirt a bit more Fairy, and hot liquid into the dish and call it a night.
It just gets to me. So much so that I’m considering scrapping the idea of buying a new car and just buying a dishwasher instead. That’s what my life has come to.
It got so bad that I said to Alice tonight ‘I think we should have a kid so that we can have someone to do the washing up for us.’
But she pointed out that, of course, you can’t really get the kid to do any chores until it’s like… five?? So it’s not a sound house-cleaning investment.
Like, is this really adult life? Is this what people do every day? Because it’s shit. I can hear my washing machine doing the really angry, obnoxiously loud spin that it does when it’s nearing the end of it’s cycle, and I’m hoping that Alice is already asleep, and that she doesn’t hear it so I don’t have to go and do more chores, because honestly they’re driving me insane.
Until tomorrow, don’t even get me started on ironing…