You are rich, and I am filthy.
Sick again, though I have the medicine. My 17 hours of work turned into just five and a half. I went to relieve people of extra duties, did my part, returned home to rest.
I never really rested yesterday. My body hurt but my mind could not stop demanding things of it. I came home at 7:30 last night, while every one else was at work. The house, this house, the one I searched for for months... the one I fought for, experienced sleep deprivation to get... was a fucking mess.
No, this will not do.
So I started. I did dishes. But the sink looked too good in comparison to the rest. I scrubbed counters, the stove. I moved appliances and rearranged things. Then, the dining room. It had become a wasteland for our abandoned hobbies. For Andy and I, our screenprinting supplies were strewn about. For See-Jay, his abandoned home-brewing project (which is now probably so alcoholic it shouldn't be consumed) left clean beer bottles all over the dining room. But before I could clear that, it needed a home.
So I went downstairs to the laundry room - this is the only public room that had never been unpacked, or cleaned. Boxes of miscellanous art supplies and bags of blankets begging to be put through the laundry were everywhere. Lint and dust had collected. Empty bottles of detergent and empty boxes of dryer sheets.
I started a load, folded the clean blankets and rearranged the bags of dirty blankets (this was Andy's job, since the blankets were his, so I didn't want to do more than a load. I just had to get things started). I swept. I wiped off the counter, and the tops of the washer and dryer. I started sorting art supplies into drawers and boxes, and soon, was able to transfer almost all of the stuff in the dining room, and some from the living room. When it was fully stocked, I went to start rearranging the miscellanous junk upstairs.
For the first time in months, I gained access to the dining room table. I straightened it and the living room up, and swept and swiffered the public parts of the upstairs. I found a place for just about everything.
And when I was done with that, I had to change clothes from all the water, detergent, and grime that had gotten on me. I washed my hands and face, changed shirts, then tackled our room. It had been and usually was the cleanest room in the house. I just had some clean laundry to put away, a night stand to clean off, a bed to make.
It felt so good to look around and not cringe. Andy and I are the only ones who ever clean, and it becomes exhausting to pick up after the other two. They leave food out, leave dishes out (not even putting them in the sink half the time, and never rinsing them). They don't respect the compost and recycling - most things are thrown in the trash (and Andy and I get to sort that out and correct it, too). They put empty beer bottles in the sink.
Once every couple of weeks, we have to clean like this. It is also guaranteed that we will have to clean upon returning from any sort of vacation together, like our camping trips. It does piss me off a lot, but I have had far worse roommates before, and I actually have help this time... so it's not so bad. We always help each other out and trade off duties. He'll give me a break from dishes for a few days, then I'll take over the chore.
When I was done, I was shocked at how much better I felt, both physically and mentally. I love whims like that, and the burst of energy to carry me through. I was so excited for him to get home and see. I sent him a text and said I had a surprise.
He came home, after a hard day. Friday. Labor day weekend. He works at an organic brewery, so he experienced the rush of people out to celebrate their extra day of freedom with good food and even better beer. He seemed stressed, and said that everyone was so overwhelmed with work and in a terrible mood. For him to come home to this was so relieving.
So we smoked. We ate. He hadn't seen the laundry room yet because our roommate was sleeping, but he had work shirts to dry and I had clothes to be transferred over. We went downstairs quietly, closed the door. I started setting the dryer when he turned off the light...
And what happens in the dark?
I never really rested yesterday. My body hurt but my mind could not stop demanding things of it. I came home at 7:30 last night, while every one else was at work. The house, this house, the one I searched for for months... the one I fought for, experienced sleep deprivation to get... was a fucking mess.
No, this will not do.
So I started. I did dishes. But the sink looked too good in comparison to the rest. I scrubbed counters, the stove. I moved appliances and rearranged things. Then, the dining room. It had become a wasteland for our abandoned hobbies. For Andy and I, our screenprinting supplies were strewn about. For See-Jay, his abandoned home-brewing project (which is now probably so alcoholic it shouldn't be consumed) left clean beer bottles all over the dining room. But before I could clear that, it needed a home.
So I went downstairs to the laundry room - this is the only public room that had never been unpacked, or cleaned. Boxes of miscellanous art supplies and bags of blankets begging to be put through the laundry were everywhere. Lint and dust had collected. Empty bottles of detergent and empty boxes of dryer sheets.
I started a load, folded the clean blankets and rearranged the bags of dirty blankets (this was Andy's job, since the blankets were his, so I didn't want to do more than a load. I just had to get things started). I swept. I wiped off the counter, and the tops of the washer and dryer. I started sorting art supplies into drawers and boxes, and soon, was able to transfer almost all of the stuff in the dining room, and some from the living room. When it was fully stocked, I went to start rearranging the miscellanous junk upstairs.
For the first time in months, I gained access to the dining room table. I straightened it and the living room up, and swept and swiffered the public parts of the upstairs. I found a place for just about everything.
And when I was done with that, I had to change clothes from all the water, detergent, and grime that had gotten on me. I washed my hands and face, changed shirts, then tackled our room. It had been and usually was the cleanest room in the house. I just had some clean laundry to put away, a night stand to clean off, a bed to make.
It felt so good to look around and not cringe. Andy and I are the only ones who ever clean, and it becomes exhausting to pick up after the other two. They leave food out, leave dishes out (not even putting them in the sink half the time, and never rinsing them). They don't respect the compost and recycling - most things are thrown in the trash (and Andy and I get to sort that out and correct it, too). They put empty beer bottles in the sink.
Once every couple of weeks, we have to clean like this. It is also guaranteed that we will have to clean upon returning from any sort of vacation together, like our camping trips. It does piss me off a lot, but I have had far worse roommates before, and I actually have help this time... so it's not so bad. We always help each other out and trade off duties. He'll give me a break from dishes for a few days, then I'll take over the chore.
When I was done, I was shocked at how much better I felt, both physically and mentally. I love whims like that, and the burst of energy to carry me through. I was so excited for him to get home and see. I sent him a text and said I had a surprise.
He came home, after a hard day. Friday. Labor day weekend. He works at an organic brewery, so he experienced the rush of people out to celebrate their extra day of freedom with good food and even better beer. He seemed stressed, and said that everyone was so overwhelmed with work and in a terrible mood. For him to come home to this was so relieving.
So we smoked. We ate. He hadn't seen the laundry room yet because our roommate was sleeping, but he had work shirts to dry and I had clothes to be transferred over. We went downstairs quietly, closed the door. I started setting the dryer when he turned off the light...
And what happens in the dark?