My housing situation is not ideal, but I am incredibly grateful and very blessed to have a roof over my head that includes a kitchen, bathroom, gorgeous backyard, air conditioning, and plenty of space for the wonder dog to run around. The fact that those lovely things are situated in my boyfriend's parents' home is the un-ideal part, but they're such awesome people that most of the time I do not mind one bit. And since I'm not the primary breadwinner and contribute maybe $120 a week on a good week, I'm not gonna complain.
This week, though. This week (and next week!) boyfriend's 'rents are in Ireland for a family wedding (his mom is Irish, raised in England, and has the cutest accent/mannerisms in the world. Most of her family is still on the Emerald Isle, and I would very much like to meet them, if only because I would get to fly across the world). They are gone gone gone, and since boyfriend works approximately 60+ hours a week (including his disgustingly long commute), that means I'm home alone with the dog, and I can clean/organize/housewife to my heart's content.
Yesterday I tackled the dishes, which pile up quite quickly with four people eating at all odd hours (our schedules aren't the least bit conducive to a family meal... we all eat at different times). What with the intense packing and work week ahead of their trip, and me being sick and getting behind on our dishes (yes, I do all of our dishes. Small price to pay when he works all the time), I had three loads for the dishwasher. During that time, I also tossed all the stuff that had no business being anywhere but the trash, and put about ten thousand bottles in the recycling bag. I am a failure and forgot about trash day, so I didn't get to empty the gigantic trash haul from the kitchen before this morning, but I'll live. I also did some laundry (I do laundry 4 or 5 times a week, because boyfriend only has a handful of work shirts and an ever-decreasing number of pairs of underwear that have become the bane of my existence... plus the dog sleeps with us and the sheets need to be changed frequently), and scrubbed down kitchen counters, put away some random stuff that ended up on the kitchen table and bar, and straightened the living room up. I was happy with it, for the most part.
Today I went nuts doing ALL OF THE LAUNDRY in cycles and putting things away, so that for the first time since I've lived here, there was no laundry sitting on top of the dryer or on the floor in the washroom. I cannot tell you how stoked I am about that. It will last all of 2 seconds, but I'm gonna enjoy it. I also put away all the clean stuff that somehow never makes it into drawers, fed the dog wet food (which she never gets, and which had to be mixed, which is a pain), straightened our room again, and sorted everyone's mail. Again, super happy for the most part.
On Tuesday, when they left, I stayed home when boyfriend went to our friends' house and went nuts cleaning and straightening. It was the big push that launched all of this, really. I organized our bathroom, cleaned out our medicine cabinet, filled up my pill dispenser (you would be SHOCKED at how many pills a person with depression, Lupus, Hashimoto's thyroiditis, low b12, acid reflux, fibromyalgia, and sleeping problems requires) for the week, and went nuts cleaning up our room and putting new sheets, pillow cases, and a comforter on our bed.
I tell you all of this because when I do stuff like this for our house, I don't get to spill to anyone. Nobody thanks me, and honestly, they shouldn't have to, because housekeeping is it's own reward. I'm in a lot of pain, though, and getting myself out of bed and doing stuff, especially on a day when I work, is actually a big deal sometimes. And I want to be appreciated. And I can't call my mother every day just to tell her how much I housewifed. Even though I know she misses me living with her because I am THE BEST at housewifing (her house has five bedrooms, a kitchen, two living rooms, an office, a dining room, two staircases, four and a half baths, an outside bathroom/changing room, and a TON OF STUFF, so cleaning there takes skill and I am super thorough), I realize that it's impractical to be this pumped about doing basic shit.
I am, however, very pumped for myself about doing all this basic shit, especially because most of the time boyfriend just assumes it will all happen and does not help, ever, at all, and I want someone to give a damn. When I don't do it, he gets upset, and since I don't have a lot else to contribute, I need to earn my keep a little. But still. A THANK YOU WOULD BE SUPER COOL. ACKNOWLEDGING IT WOULD BE NEATO.
But I digress.
It's not his job to pat me on the head for not being a shitty girlfriend, and it isn't my job to bitch endlessly about what a thankless job housecleaning is.
I will instead bitch about it on my blog that almost nobody reads, and be excited for myself.
Because I totally am.
This house looks wonderful and I did it all by myself.