Oh my god, I would make a terrible Stepford wife. Do you know why? It’s because I fucking hate housework.
You wouldn’t know that if you actually looked at my house. It sounds weird, but my house DOES look clean, even though it’s most definitely not. Like ever.
Shit is precariously shoved into closets like you wouldn’t BELIEVE over here!
The closest it ever really comes to clean is when my mother in law (who I love to PIECES mind you) is coming over. Because she is the cleanest person on the planet. Terrifyingly so. And I know that if I can’t fool her into thinking everything is clean then she will feel obliged to clean it herself. Which shits me. Because although I really don’t want to clean it, I really don’t want anyone else to either.
Because its my house. Not anyone else’s. Does that make sense? No?
That’s ok, it doesn’t really make sense to me either sometimes.
But I have recently come to the realisation that I have never hated anything MORE in my whole life than cleaning my house. Actually, that’s a lie, there are a couple of people who I hate more, but I wont name names. They know who they are. The jerks.
Sigh.
However, although I am NOT terribly clean, I am most DEFINITELY neat. Or I look like I am, hence the closet shit shoving I talked about before.
And our neat facade is what fools people into thinking my house is clean when it’s not. Or maybe it’s because we open the curtains right up when people are coming over so they are too blindingly stunned by the sunshine reflecting off the tiles directly into their eyeballs to actually notice how utterly revolting and dirty those same tiles actually are.
I mean, it’s not like I NEVER actually clean anything. Because I do. I clean something or other every damn day. Especially if I am trying to avoid doing something else I don’t want to do, or if we have reached the state where my bare feet start to crunch on the floor beneath me. Then I might do something about it. Maybe. Sometimes. #ItsATossUpBetweenCleaningAndBurningTheHouseDownSometimesThough
But the silly thing is, that it’s not even the actual CLEANING part of doing housework that I hate.
Nope, it is the fact that once it’s done, you don’t even get to enjoy it.
You can’t sit back and appreciate it in all of its clean glory – “Ooooh look at my shiny floors”, “Ooooh look at my sparkling windows”, “Ooooh look at the way our shower simply gleams with cleanliness”, “Ooooh look at how there are absolutely NO residual poo marks on the toilet and no wee on the floor right now”. Nope, there is none of that. Not in my house anyway.
Because inevitably someone (and that someone can sometimes be me), will come in and fuck it up.
Like that time I literally just finished mopping the floor, and a little 3-year-old someone smashed the entire contents of our FULL, and I repeat FULL jar of coconut oil on the floor. True Story. It was accidental of course, but I almost cried. It was really hard to clean up. #TraumatisedAndMyKneesHurtAfterwards
Or, like the time I cleaned all the windows coz I was sick of looking out over a backyard of smudgy handprints and doggy snot smears. Because every time the dog sneezes, he does so so damn dramatically about twenty times in a row, banging his head on the floor with each sneeze. And by doing THAT he gives himself a whopper of a blood nose every single time without fail, spraying snot and blood all over the windows and our back door. True story again. It permanently looks like a crime scene. WTAF.
Or, like that time I cleaned the shower and then noticed all of the spots that I had missed because I was too slow to finish it before the hot water ran out. It’s always a race against time to see how much of the shower I can clean before I freeze to death. #TheHotWaterGames #INeverWin #ItWasTotallyMeThatFuckedThisOneUpEverytime
Or, like how every time I clean the bathroom and toilet, and then one of the men in the house – either big or small, doesn’t seem to matter – accidentally wee’s half in the bowl and half out of it without realising, so that there is a glorious amount of wee on the floor, waiting for me to happily go and stand in it when I am not wearing socks half an hour later. #AndSometimesWhenIAm
Are you nodding your head because it’s the same in your house? I hope so.
And that’s why I hate cleaning the house so much.
Because it’s never-ending. And because no matter what you do, it’s dirty again straight away. And because dust makes me sneeze like a MoFo.
So, I will keep on being neat and throwing things into cupboards or drawers without a care in the world. Because neat trumps clean. And because cleaning is stupid. And sneezing is apparently dangerous.
#HygeneIsOverrated…What?
Do you enjoy housework? Or does it frustrate you to tears that you need to even do it? Leave me a comment below as I would love to hear all about it xxx
