Household Snores

Really, does anyone enjoy doing housework? Like, anyone? I know there are people who actually  make a living doing housework, like maids and housekeepers and such, and maybe it’s not quite so horrible when you are getting paid to do it. (Still, cleaning the house when it’s your own dirt and doing is bad enough, I can’t imagine how much someone would have to pay me to do it for someone else. I work up an incredible head of steam of resentment and hatred when I clean up after my own family, and I LIKE them.) 

Like everyone, I have some things I don’t mind doing, and some things that I hate with the white hot heat of a thousands suns:

Chores I Loathe:

Cleaning the bathrooms. This one I hate the very, very most. Maybe it’s because the bathrooms are the highest maintenance and most disgusting part of the house, but cleaning the bathrooms is my number one hated chore. There’s just SO MUCH to clean! And all the damn time, it never ends!  I am very lucky that the Mister doesn’t mind it as much as I do, and he takes care of it.

Cleaning the closets: I hate cleaning the closets because of all the decisions you have to make. If all it entailed was taking everything out and putting everything back in, I wouldn’t mind so much, but no, you have to take everything out, and then DECIDE what goes back in. And there’s always way too much to put back in. It’s like you never really did anything when you are finished.

Cleaning windows: you wipe and wipe and wipe and they are never ever, really clean. Just cleanish.

Washing and drying lettuce: this isn’t the worst job in the world, but I loathe it. I always end up with water all over the counter and bits of lettuce clogging the drain. It seems to take forever.

Drying the dishes: I will happily wash dishes, but I hate drying them. Why spend your time doing what nature will do for you?

Emptying the dishwasher: how lucky and I to even have a dishwasher? Very lucky. And you would think I would be much more amiable about only having to empty the thing, but I feel like it’s the most boring, interminable job on the planet. Once I timed myself doing it, to really see how long it took and it was 7 minutes! I couldn’t believe it! What a crybaby I am! But it’s 7  minutes of pure torture.

Cleaning the fridge: There is always about 6  containers in the back of the fridge that have been there probably since the last time I cleaned the fridge, and whatever is in those containers has evolved into something so foul and revolting that it’s easier to just keep the lids on them and not clean the fridge. Also, this is a cold job, and deeply unpleasant in the winter.

Folding and putting away laundry: in a perfect hell, they will play rap music, serve me blue cheese and liver, and make me pair up ten thousand pairs of white socks, each pair with a tiny but significant feature that distinguishes it from the other the other white socks. 

Chores I Don’t Mind

Grocery shopping I actually quite like grocery shopping. I know lots of people just hate it, but I get a kick out of seeing what’s new, what deals I can find and deciding what I’m going to get to eat next. I’m also lucky in that I don’t have to do  my grocery shopping on Saturdays, which would dampen my enthusiasm mightily.

Cooking: I do almost all the cooking here at Chez Loudshoes, and that’s perfectly fine with me. She who cooks decides  the menu. And I like my own cooking, so the work is rewarding.

Ironing: Ironing is rather mindless, satisfying work….running hot metal over clean clothes, smoothing out wrinkles and making everything look nice, with hardly any effort. And it smells nice.

Changing the sheets: again, a chore that really doesn’t take much time, but has a huge payoff. Sliding into clean sheets, particularly ones that have dried on the line is thoroughly gratifying.Plus, the cat helps, and that's always fun.

Vacuuming: Vacuuming is pretty easy to do, and again, a huge payoff. Any room looks SO much better after it’s been vacuumed. And this job has the advantage of pissing the cat off like no other.

Then there are the Chores I Don’t Even Bother Doing:

Vacuum under furniture: why bother. I will vacuum when I re-arrange the furniture. Or move out.

Dusting: If anyone in my house was allergic to dust, I’m afraid they would just have to die or live somewhere else. 

Polish silverware: I have some silver, probably given to me as a wedding gift. I have never used it, because I would have to polish it. I would rather eat with chopsticks than polish silver.

Clean behind the stove/fridge: I know Martha Stewart says I should do this every few months, but seriously, can’t see it, won’t clean it.

Cleaning baseboards. Seriously, if you are my friend and you are looking at my baseboards, we are now not friends.

There’s always something I’d rather be doing than housework, but at least the bare minimum gets done, even if I do swear a blue streak when I’m doing it. 

An Open Letter....

Dear Lady on Your Cellphone in the Grocery Store Yesterday,

You really thought you could manage both, didn't you? You probably thought you were doing a perfectly passable job of manoevering your shopping cart and choosing items from the shelf and chatting away to your friend/sister/mother/husband. But let speak for the rest of the customers at No-Frills and state clearly and without reservation: YOU WERE NOT. YOU WERE A FREAKING TRAIN WRECK THAT MOVED ALL OVER THE STORE.

No one could escape you; no matter where we fled, there you were. Produce aisle? You were blocking the seedless green grapes that were on sale. Cereal aisle? You were perpendicular. Freezer department? No one could open a door without getting around you first. I nearly lost my shit altogether when I tried to get around you for the umpteenth time and you veered into the middle of the aisle and then stopped dead. Seriously, I nearly rammed right into you to teach you a lesson; you should count your lucky stars that you have any Achilles tendons left intact.

I kind of feel sorry for the person on the other end of the phone (although, really, that person had a choice to hang up or not, we had to put up with you no matter what.) Your conversation, while entirely audible to all and sundry, was less than scintillating. What the person you were talking to was going to do with the running commentary on your shopping trip is anybody's guess...."They are out of Nutrigrain bars again" will likely not count as one of the major high's of anyone's day.

Please take this in the nicest way possible: "Multitasking: It's not for everyone". Drive the cart, shop for your groceries, talk on the phone, just not all at once. Don't make me sever your Achille's tendons.

Love,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Cleaning Agents

I'd like to think we are very welcoming here at Chez Loudshoes. We have been known to open our doors to small children unceremoniously dropped off at our door in the morning, and fed them breakfast. We have welcomed (s0metimes the same) children into our home seeking dry socks at lunchtime. Our door is always open to those in need of computer repair or a beer. We have offered refuge and kleenex to two 9-year olds who's bicycle accident in front of our house resulted in a spectacularly lurid bloody nose. But we do NOT welcome people who come to our door uninvited asking for money. Nuh-unh.

I have helpfully attached a sign to our front door that reads, "NO Agents, Peddlers or Solicitors", which I think makes my position pretty clear. I didn't even get the sign that said "please" on it.
I don't think you could assign any ambiguity to that sign, and yet, several people have done just that over the past few days. That sign does not say to them "you might as well turn around right now, the people who live here are not interested". Apparently, that sign says "Ring the doorbell! Disturb the dwellers within! There's no reason whatsoever to suspect that they will not be enthralled by your charms!! They'll LOVE you!"

One guy was trying to get me to change electric companies, which interested me not at all. I interrupted his speil, pointed to the sign and said "See that? That means you." To which he replied "But, this is a really good deal". I just shook my knife at him and shut the door. (I was peeling potatoes at the time, but I didn't see any reason for him to not think I was crazy.)

Another young woman came to the door to ask for money for a charity. Again, I pointed to the sign and said "See this? That means you." To which she replied, "But I'm not soliciting, I'm asking for donations." To which I, the daughter of an English professor, said "Soliciting means asking", and she replied, hotly, "No! It isn't!" Seriously, did she think that engaging me in an arguement about word definitions and meanings was going to get me to open my wallet?

Then I got some Mormons at the door. Sigh. Believe me, I can totally respect another person's faith, even when I disagree with it myself, and have no desire to change their opinons or beliefs. So why can't they afford me the same? Especially in my own home? I would never knock on someone's door and start to tell them "you know, you've got this whole religion thing down wrong, it's a crock and you are a fool". But they seem to have no problem doing this to me. I politely showed them the sign, said "see this? This means you". To their credit, they didn't argue, but I could tell they thought that the sign was definintely meant for someone else.

The only person I willingly have bought something from when they came to to door was when the kid that Thing 2 babysits was selling popcorn to raise money for his Cub troup to go to the Boy Scout Jamboree. For one thing, I'm never turning down a kid, and secondly, who could thwart a Jamboree?
(The only time I did turn down a kid was when one stopped me in the halls at my children's school and asked if I'd like to give two dollars for autism. I couldn't help myself, I said "no thanks, I don't want any autism". But after I had a good chortle to myself, I gave the kid two bucks anyway. It was momentary.)

If it is waffles and dry socks you are after, this is your place. But if you want my money, you should probably read the sign. Or at least, come to the back door.

Today's Rant

God, Christmas is time consuming.
It's like having a menial, soul-destroying part-time job....it takes up all my free time and isn't particularly interesting or stimulating, but instead of resulting in more money in my pocket, it removes gobs of it instead.
I've had some horrible part-time jobs in my life, but this one is the worst because I get hired EVERY SINGLE YEAR, and I don't remember EVER applying for the position.
All I can look forward to is the downsizing that will come next week, when I will be laid off.

That is all.