Monday, May 2, 2011

It's Official...I Hate Doing Dishes!

When going through my day for a topic here, I paced through the house around 16 times. I would say that I got quite a bit of exercise while doing so but, I stopped by the fridge 3 of those times and grabbed, in order, a yogurt, a thing of string cheese, and lastly, a slice of turkey. Oh, that's not bad you are thinking....yeah well that was after I had a frozen waffle and a leftover birthday cupcake.(no, not MY birthday cupcake) Oh, I also dipped my turkey in a puddle of ranch.

So, now that we have determined that I am an emotional eater, we have also established I have a hard time making decisions, did not experience a birthday and have nothing to write about here. Partly all true and partly all rambling.

My point however, is that each time I walked through my house, I looked at the dishes that so desperately need done. I "ughed" each time I passed as if some inner being thought some outer being would do them when I wasn't looking. And while it would be nice to assume I was thinking one of my children would do them, #1 I know better and #2 they weren't home. So, now there is a strong possibility here I am entering some phase of my life that could be construed as delusional. Or I could be experiencing moments of fantadreamereality. And yes, I totally just made that word up. It means moments of a woman's day when she suddenly puts herself in daydream state where fantasy is complete reality. Oh, shit....that is marriage! Damn!

Okay, that was completely uncalled for and probably has strong potential of deletion. And could quite possibly, not make any sense at all. Truth is I did look at those dishes like the first time I had seen them. I did find their presence shocking each time. I did believe in some sub conscious area, they would be gone. But, honestly, I hate them. I hate washing them. I despise putting them away. I shiver at the thought of rinsing them, hearing them clang together, and silverware...don't even get me started on that!

They are still there. Looming now as I am aware of their continuous presence. I can't bring back the delusion of their non-existence. I can't pretend anymore. I still hate them.
Maybe I will just buy paper plates from now on. Paper cups. Plastic silverware. My niece has a fetish for plastic. She won't even use stainless steel. She could be on to something. Of course, the baby would eat Styrofoam. That probably isn't nutritional, is it?

You know, yesterday I asked God for a nice eligible bachelor who enjoyed dining out, good music and my kids. I told God a lawnmower was required. Then this morning I retracted that request and just asked for the lawn mower. Suppose it's too late to add a dishwasher to the list?

I should probably go pray now. Thanks for letting me vent.
Until next time,

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