Thursday, May 13, 2010
Dirty dishes, everywhere.
I hate doing dishes. Especially without a dishwasher.
I've been down for a week, and between my work-generated dishes and the dishes I'm supposed to do because my boyfriend cooked last week, I'm basically a step below Liz Lemon taking her fork out of the dishwasher. I wish I had a dishwasher.
When I was a kid, my least favorite chore was taking dishes out of the dishwasher. I was generally pretty obnoxiously lazy in general but particularly with regard to housework. I was supposed to empty the dishwasher after dinner, and I would usually put it off for hours after forks were down.
Ugh. Youth. I had it so easy and I didn't even know.
The pile-up of dishes means that one load is a fucking production. I have to soak the dishes (because they're disgusting), then empty the water and clean off the food particles. Ew and ew. Then I fill with hot soapy water and wait some more, go do something else for a while. Then I have to either put up the clean dishes or move the dirty dishes to another part of the kitchen, which, when my kitchen is in the state it's in, is also an ordeal. Then I have to rinse them, which is not a big deal.
At this point, I say to myself, "Look at what you've accomplished. You are done with cleaning for the night."
Then I go and make and eat dinner, generating at least another two loads. My life, it's so hard.
In short, fuck dishwashing. My least favorite part of any day.