2005-03-12 - 5:41 a.m.
Yesterday my boss was telling us about the previous night’s events at his house. He and his sons had made popcorn and were going to watch TV and his youngest son decided he wanted to watch his own shows (he is four) in his room. So my boss and his oldest boy were watching shows in the living room when his youngest son comes into the room with popcorn stuffed in his pajama pants and underwear and is pulling his pants out to grab a hand full of popcorn. So this was funny. So later that day we are all standing up front by the register and we are talking about what we are going to do after work and my boss says, “I guess I am just going to eat popcorn out of my sons underwear tonight,” and he is totally unaware that there is a customer standing behind him and the look on that customers face was hilarious. It was funny.
This morning I woke up and realized that the shirt I wanted to wear today was in the washer and since I don’t have a drier I wouldn’t be able to wear it today. And that upset me because I have PMS right now and NEED to wear that shirt because I am bloated and icky and it is the only shirt I can wear in this state that doesn’t make me feel even more icky. So what did I do? Right now it is in the oven. And I am sitting here, at my table, surrounded by coffee mugs, dirty plates and an occasional fork and dirty napkin.
My house is surprisingly clean right now. Due to the fact that SOMEONE SOMEDAY might want to LOOK at it and also because with nothing in it, cleaning is a breeze and it’s easy to keep up with my piggish habits. But, around my table, where I spend the majority of my home time, it is a mess. Books, magazines, dirty dishes, pieces of candle I as nervously picking at the other day, five colors of nailpolish and the paper towel I used to take my old polish off with the other day…just a mess. And there is tomato sauce caked on the table and crumbs from bread and MY GOD, I am such a pig.
I see women that are so together domestically and sometimes I get jealous. Not jealous of their abilities, because I do not aspire to be a housewife…check that, I DO want to be a housewife, I just don’t want to be a good one. I get jealous because of the people they are being housewives for…it must be SO comfortable to live in their houses. Always food in the fridge, always clean this and that. It must be so nice to come home to that.
I see this girl at the laundry mat every week when I go in there to dry my sheets and shirts. She must go like twice a week because I always see her there and I don’t have a set day I go or anything. She is always washing pillows and bedding as well as clothes. And she is so organized. She has hangers, HANGERS and she measures soap and she folds things neatly. And then there is me…sitting in the corner with dirty laundry baskets, surrounded by various odds and ends that I forgot to take out of pockets when I washed and that are now spilled at my feet. And when my laundry dries I throw it all into the dirty baskets and leave. No folding, no hangers…it must be really nice to live in her house. With the clean, fluffy pillows and shirts perfectly folded. I want to live in her house.
How do these women keep it together? I look around now…I see that I have clothes spilling out of drawers, unfolded…I can never find a matching sock so I am always wearing socks that WAY don’t match. I lose everything, I break everything, I cannot organize anything and if I do organize something it is only a matter of hours before I have fucked it all up again. I am a really bad housewife. But I guess that’s okay with me because I DO spend time cleaning and I spend just about the maximum amount of time I can handle cleaning. To be a hood housewife must take a lot of time. Or maybe they just aren’t pigs like I am. I can make messes faster than anyone else on this planet.
I am going to need to get a maid at some point in my life.
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